J LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

# ■ 

[SMITHSONIAN DEPOSIT.] 



^mj? /v32%s i 



7 



i UNITED STATES OP AMERICA.! 



xm: 




THE CROOKED TREE IN SPRUCE STREET.— (See p. 77 ) 



ills from % Jforarfam of Jiife; 



OR, 



SERMONS TO CHILDREN. 



BY 



KEY. EICHARD NEWTON, D.D. 

RECTOR OF ST. PAUL'S CHURCH, PHILADELPHIA. 



/ 



fool- 



PHILADELPHIA: 
J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 

/ 1856. 






ot Congress 



WASHINGTON 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by 

RICHARD NEWTON, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States in and for the Eastern 
District of Pennsylvania. 



TO 



%\t Sttttfc&S-iSffcMl 9>m\m 



OF 



ST. PAUL'S CHURCH 



J 

IN TESTIMONY OP 

THEIR EARNEST AND HEARTY CO-OPERATION WITH HIM IN EVERY GOOD WORK; 

AND OF THE DEGREE IN WHICH 

THEIR CHEERFUL, AND HARMONIOUS AID HAS HELPED 

TO SWEETEN THE CARES, AND LIGHTEN THE BURDENS, OF SIXTEEN YEARS 

OF MINISTERIAL LABOUR AMONG THEM, 

Sfeis little stMnritt 

IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, BY THEIR AFFECTIONATE 

FRIEND AND PASTOR. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

The Pleasant Way 7 

The Spider's Example 26 

The Marks of a Ben-oni 44 

The Crooked Things Straightened 71 

The Great Man in God's Sight 85 

The Lily's Lessons 103 

The Gift for God 121 

The Wonderful Lamp 135 

The Child's Fortune told 151 

The Millennial Menagerie 170 

The Best Merchandise 189 

The Lessons Jesus Teaches 205 



PREFACE. 



The following sermons have been published at the request 
of the teachers of the Sunday-schools of St. Paul's Church. 
For the last two years, there has been a service for the chil- 
dren of this congregation, on the afternoon of the first Sun- 
day in the month. On these occasions, the children occupy 
the body of the church. The usual service is performed, 
and a sermon preached, designed especially for the benefit of 
the children. 

It is called, "The Children's Church" It was begun, at 
first, with much doubt and fear, as a matter of experiment. 
The result has proved, in the highest degree, satisfactory and 
encouraging. The children have manifested the liveliest 
interest in these services. In reply to questions asked, they 
always give an intelligent account of the outlines of the last 
sermon preached. The adult attendance, on these occasions, 
is larger than at any other afternoon service in this church. 
While the preacher has found the effort at arrangement, and 
simplification, necessary in order to secure the attention of so 
youthful an auditory, of great profit to himself, in sermon- 
izing for " children of a larger growth.' ' 

This little volume contains a portion of the sermons de- 

1* 5 



6 PREFACE. 

livered on these occasions. They were preached extempora- 
neously, and written out, from the original notes, during the 
last summer vacation. It was the opinion of the teachers 
who heard them, that, as they had interested the children of 
one school, they might be useful to others. And, in com- 
pliance with their earnest and united request, this unpretend- 
ing little offering is laid upon the altar of the Sunday-school 
cause, with the fervent prayer, that, that glorious Saviour who 
hath " chosen the weak things of the world to confound the 
things that are mighty ;" and whose sacred, standing, injunc- 
tion to his ministers is, "Feed my lambs," may graciously 
crown it with his blessing, and make it an humble instrument 
of good to some of his " little ones." 



flite torn % ffltratata xrf fife 



THE PLEASANT WAY. 

Prov. iii. 7 : Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her 

paths are peace. 

The question any one feels tempted to ask on 
reading these words is, Whose ways are here spoken 
of? Now, if we look at the thirteenth verse of this 
chapter, we find that the person intended here is 
Wisdom. In the Bible, when Wisdom is spoken 
of as a person, it always means true Religion. And 
so we find that it is Religion of which Solomon is 
speaking when he says, "Her ways are ways of 
pleasantness/' &c. 

The Bible tells us of two great roads, or ways in 
which the people of this world are walking. One 
of these is the world's way, or the way of sin; the 
other is Wisdom's way, or the way of Religion. 
One of these is called the broad way, and multitudes 
are always thronging it ; the other is called the nar- 
row way, and but few are found to travel it. In the 
language of the hymn, — 



O A SAFE GUIDE — A PLEASANT THING. 

" Broad is the road that leads to death, 
And thousands walk together there ; 
But Wisdom shows a narrow path, 
With here and there a traveller." 

Now, there are six things which help to make a 
road pleasant to those who travel it, and all these 
are found in Wisdom's ways. 

The first thing which makes a way pleasant is to have 
a safe guide. 

If you had to journey through a country in which 
there were no roads laid out, it would be very un- 
pleasant; because you would never be able to tell, 
with any certainty, whether you were going right 
or not. "When ships are at sea they find no roads 
laid out over the broad surface of its waters. There 
are no milestones to mark the distance, and no 
finger-boards to point out the way. But the sailor 
takes the compass, with its little trembling needle 
always pointing to the north, and this becomes his 
guide. This enables him to tell which way to go. 
This is just as good to him as roads and finger- 
boards. The sailor's way at sea would be a very 
unpleasant one if he had no compass as his guide. 
But the guidance which this gives him does much 
to make his way a way of pleasantness. 

ISTear the city of Rome, in Italy, there is an exten- 
sive burial place, called the Catacombs. It is all 
under ground, and reaches for miles in different 
ways. The paths, among the tombs, cross each other 
in every possible direction, so that even in the broad 
light of day it would be a perfect puzzle to find 
one's way through them. But no ray of light 



THE MAN LOST IN THE CATACOMBS. 9 

reaches that gloomy place. It is dark as midnight 
there. Of course, then, you will easily understand 
that to enter the Catacombs, without a guide, is a 
very dangerous thing. So many lives have been 
lost, in consequence, that the entrances have been 
closed up, and no persons are now permitted to go 
in. Before this was done, however, there was once 
a young man who resolved to explore the Cata- 
combs. He furnished himself with a light, and, in 
order that he might not lose his way, he took a ball 
of string, and, fastening one end of it at the en- 
trance of the dark passage, he carried the ball with 
him that he might guide his way out by it. Having 
thus furnished himself, he went in, and trod cau- 
tiously along, gazing in silence on the different 
names and memorials inscribed on the tombs in 
that dark city of the dead. He spent some hours in 
this manner; and, dark and dismal as the place 
was, his way was comparatively pleasant, because he 
had a guide. But when he was about turning to go 
back his light went out. And in the alarm which 
this threw him into, he dropped his string, which 
was all he had to depend on to lead him back to the 
outside world of light and life. He stooped down 
at once to pick up his guiding-string, but he could 
not find it. He got down on his knees, and felt 
carefully around in every direction for. that precious, 
precious thread, on which hung all his hope of life 
and deliverance; but in vain. He turned and 
groped, and groped and turned, till weary with the 
effort; but to no purpose. Then he began to de- 
spair. He felt that he was buried alive. He thought 



10 THE MAN LOST IN THE CATACOMBS. 

of his home, of his friends, and of the bright and 
beautiful world without, and wept bitter tears of 
sorrow over his folly in entering that gloomy abode. 
But he soon felt that weeping would do him no 
good. So he resolved to make a desperate effort to 
escape, before giving himself up to die. Then he 
began in utter darkness to grope his way back. But 
he had no guide ; and, ah ! he felt how dreadfully 
unpleasant his way was made simply by his want 
of a guide. He walked on in darkness, till com- 
pelled to stop and rest. Again he walked, and 
again he rested. He continued his efforts for hours, 
that seemed like ages to him. But it was for life 
that he was struggling, and so he toiled on, and on, 
and on, till at last his energies were exhausted. He 
felt that it was of no use. He thought that he must 
die; and, just as he was sinking in utter despair to 
the earth, he thought he saw a faint glimmer of 
light. This revived his sinking heart. He struggled 
on a little farther ; he turned a corner of the way ; 
and, oh ! joy of joys to him, there was the broad 
light of day. A merciful Providence had directed 
his steps in the dark and brought him out in 
safety. 

A safe guide is the first thing necessary to make a 
way pleasant. In Religion's way we have this. The 
Bible is our guide here. It is a safe guide. It never 
leads us wrong. It shows us the dangers in our 
path, and how we may avoid them. It will go 
with us all through life, and lead us to heaven at 
last. Religion's ways are ways of pleasantness, 
because we have a safe guide in these ways. 



GOOD COMPANY. 11 

But the second thing which makes a way pleasant is 
good company. 

If you have a journey to take all alone, with no 
one to talk to on the way, how long and dreary that 
journey will seem ! But if you have two or three 
friends and companions with you, whom you love 
very much, and they talk with you as you travel on, 
telling you all about the different houses you pass 
by, the names and characters of the people who live 
in them, and all about the different places that 
come in sight, and the various things that have hap- 
pened in connection with them, this will keep your 
mind fully occupied. You would not feel tired ; the 
time would pass without your knowing it, and the 
way would seem very short, and very pleasant. 
Now, those who walk in Wisdom's ways have the 
very best company. All good Christians are their 
fellow-travellers. You remember how Moses spoke 
to his father-in-law, when he wanted to persuade 
him to become an Israelite, and serve God with him 
and his people. He said, (Numb. x. 29,) " Come 
thou with us, and we will do thee good ; for we are 
journeying to the place of which the Lord hath 
said, I will give you." 

And so, when we begin to serve God, we are tra- 
velling to the land of promise, the heavenly Ca- 
naan, the good land which God will give to his peo- 
ple. And Wisdom's ways are the ways in which 
we are to travel, to reach that land. And all God's 
people are our fellow-travellers, in trying to reach 
that happy land. But we have better company than 
this, in Wisdom's ways. The holy angels are the 



12 GOD AND THE ANGELS THE BEST COMPANY. 

companions of all who walk in these ways. St. 
Paul says that the angels "are all ministering spirits, 
sent forth to minister unto those who are heirs 
of salvation.' ' This means all true Christians, — all 
who love and serve God. And David says, "The 
angel of the Lord encampeth round about them 
that fear him, and delivereth them." 

Now, these angels are silent companions : they 
are not allowed to speak to us. They are invisible 
companions : we cannot see them. But still, they 
are real companions of all who walk in Wisdom's 
ways. But, though silent and invisible, they are 
active and useful companions. God employs them 
to take care of us, to protect us from harm, and 
prevent many evils that Satan, and his evil spirits, 
would inflict upon us. 

But we have better company even than this, in 
Wisdom's ways. God, himself, will be the com- 
panion of all who walk in these ways. Enoch 
walked in these ways, before the flood; and when 
the Bible tells us about him, it says, "Enoch walked 
with God." And if Enoch walked with God, then 
God must have walked with Enoch. Jesus says, 
"If a man love me, he will keep my words; and 
my Father will love him, and we will come unto 
him, and make our abode with him." And St. Paul 
says, " Truly our fellowship," — and fellowship, 
you know, is just the same as companionship, — 
" our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son 
Jesus Christ." Ah! this is good company indeed ; 
this is the very best company we can have. Only 
think, my dear children, of having the Lord Jesus 



THE LORD JESUS A PLEASANT COMPANION. 13 

Christ for a' companion ! And though, he is invisi- 
ble too, like the angels, yet he is not silent too, like 
them. Oh, no ; he speaks to his people, as he walks 
with them, and what he says makes them very 
happy. As he walked with his disciples when on 
earth, and talked with them on one occasion, "their 
hearts burned within them/' and they were so happy 
they hardly knew what to do. And just so he talks 
with his people now. It is not, indeed, by words, 
spoken to their outward ears, that Jesus talks with 
his people now, but by thoughts put into their 
minds by his Holy Spirit. In this way he speaks to 
them of the precious promises of his word, of what 
he has done, and suffered for their salvation, and of 
the glorious home which he has prepared for them 
above. There is nothing in the world can make us 
so happy as to have Jesus for our companion. A 
good man, who loved Jesus very much, once wrote 
a beautiful hymn about the happiness he found in 
the companionship of Jesus ; and in that hymn he 
says,— 

"While blest with a sense of his love, 
A palace a toy would appear ; 
And prisons would palaces prove, 

If Jesus would dwell with me there." 

The good company found in "Wisdom's ways is 
the second thing which makes them "ways of plea- 
santness." 

The third thing which makes a way pleasant is sure 
protection. 

If you were walking along a road in which steel- 
traps were hidden, and you were in danger, at every 



14 THE DANGEROUS WAY. 

step, of being caught in them, there would be no 
pleasantness in that way. The danger would take 
away all pleasure. You remember our Saviour told 
a story once about a man who went down from 
Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, who 
robbed, and stripped, and wounded him, and left 
him half dead. The road from Jerusalem to Jericho 
was a very dangerous road then. It was a narrow 
road that ran winding round between high moun- 
tains. There were dark caverns in the sides of the 
mountains. These caverns were infested with rob- 
bers, who watched for the passing travellers, and 
sprang out to rob and murder them. That road is 
just as dangerous now, as it was then. So many 
murders have been committed there, that it is called 
"the bloody way." There would be no pleasant- 
ness in travelling that way. There would be no 
safety even, unless you had a company of armed men 
to protect you. Protection, in travelling, is necessary 
if we would have pleasure in it. 

Now, the way of life through which we are travel- 
ling is a way full of dangers. Like the road from Je- 
rusalem to Jericho, it is beset with robbers. Satan, 
with his evil spirits, is there, like the captain of a 
band of robbers. His object is to rob our souls of 
all right feelings, and principles, and drag us down 
to his own dark den, forever. He is the worst rob- 
ber that ever was. There is nothing we should 
dread so much, as falling into his hands, and being 
left there. Yet this must happen to all, w T ho do not 
walk in Wisdom's ways. We cannot protect our- 
selves, against this robber. Our best friends and 



HOW ABRAHAM WAS PROTECTED. 15 

dearest relations cannot protect us. Jesus alone, 
can afford us protection here. We cannot see Satan, 
but he can. "We know not where he lays his traps 
and snares for us, but Jesus knows. And he can 
turn away our feet and keep us from falling into 
those snares. He said to Abraham, once, when he 
was in danger, "Fear not, Abraham; I am thy 
shield." Abraham was travelling the same way of 
life that we are travelling. He was exposed to the 
same dangers from Satan's power and malice that 
we are exposed to. Protection, from this danger, was 
necessary for him, in order that he might find plea- 
santness in that way. And Jesus promised to be 
his shield, and assured him of this protection. And 
this "promise belongs to you, and me, if we walk in 
Wisdom's ways, as much as it did to Abraham. 
Jesus will give us sure protection from Satan, the 
great robber of souls. Do you ask how will Jesus 
protect us ? Let me tell you. In the sixth chapter, 
of the second book of Kings, we find a very interest- 
ing story of the prophet Elisha. He was living in a 
little village on a mountain in Israel. The king of 
Syria was at war, with the king of Israel, at that 
time. And whenever the Syrian king held a secret 
council, with the captains of his army, and laid a 
plan for making a sudden attack upon the Israel- 
ites, Elisha knew it, by the spirit of prophecy, and 
sent word to the king of Israel, who w r ent there, 
with his army, and prevented the attack of the 
Syrians. This made the king of Syria very angry; 
and he sent an army of soldiers to take the prophet 
prisoner, and put him to death. This army came by 



16 elisha' s protection. 

night, and, finding out the place of Elisha's abode, 
they quite surrounded the mountain, and filled the 
lower part of it with their numbers. "When the 
prophet's servant arose in the morning, and saw how 
they were surrounded by the horses and chariots of 
their enemies, he was greatly afraid, and cried out, 
" Alas ! my master, what shall we do ?" But Elisha 
felt no fear. He knew very well what safe protec- 
tion they had, and he wanted his servant to know it 
too. Then he prayed that God would give his ser- 
vant power to see what he saw; and God opened 
his eyes to see spiritual beings ; and, oh ! what a 
sight did he behold ! How it must have amazed 
him ! He saw the mountain full of horses and cha- 
riots of fire round his master and himself. These 
were angels that God had sent to take care of them. 
"What harm could the Syrians do them while they 
had such a guard ? None at all. No wonder, then, 
that Elisha was not hurt, but was saved in the sin- 
gular way described in the chapter which tells this 
interesting story. This shows us what a wonderful 
shield God is to his people, and how he can protect 
them from Satan and his hosts, just as easily as he 
protected Elisha from the army of the Syrians. 
Here we see how true the language of that hymn is 
which says, — 

" That man no guard nor weapon needs, 
Whose heart the blood of Jesus knows : 
But safe may pass, when duty leads, 

Through burning sands or mountain-snows. 

"Released from guilt, he feels no fear; 
Redemption is his shield and tower ; 



PROPER PROVISION — A PLEASANT THING. 17 

He sees his Saviour always near 
To help in every trying hour. 

"His love possessing, I am blest, 

Secure, whatever change may come ; 
Whether I go to east or west, 

With him I still shall be at home." 

Yes, yes, dear children, there is sure protection to 
those who walk in "Wisdom's ways ; and this makes 
up part of the pleasantness which is found in those 
ways. 

But there is a fourth thing which tends to make travel- 
ling pleasant in any way ; and that is, to have proper 
provision made for our wants. 

Every person who has ever had to travel all day, 
and carry a burden, will understand what a very 
pleasant thing it is to get to a good stopping-place 
at night. To be able to set down your burden, and 
wash away the dust and soil of a weary journey; 
and then to have a good substantial supper pro- 
vided, and, after satisfying your hunger, to have a 
nice, clean, comfortable bed to rest in : — these are 
the things which travellers want, and it is having 
proper provision made to supply these wants which 
imparts pleasantness to their ways. "Where this pro- 
vision has not been made, or cannot be obtained, 
there can be no pleasure in travelling. "We often 
hear of sailors, far off at sea, who run short of food 
and water. Their provisions fail ; they have nothing 
to eat, or drink, and it is impossible for them to get 
any. Ah! there is very little pleasantness in the 
sailor's way then. Starvation and suffering stare 
him in the face, but he cannot help himself. 

2* 



18 THE DARIEN EXPEDITION, AND ITS SUFFERINGS. 

And travellers on land, as well as on the sea, at 
times, find provisions fail them, and then what ter- 
rible unpleasantness is felt in their ways! Some 
time ago a company was fitted out from a United 
States naval vessel, under the command of Lieu- 
tenant Strain, to explore the Isthmus of Darien, and 
see if it would be possible to make a canal across it, 
so that vessels might get from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific Ocean without having to go all the way 
round South America and Cape Horn. They ex- 
pected to get through, and be back again, in a few 
days, and only took provisions with them accord- 
ingly. But they found the distance many times 
greater than it had been represented to thern. They 
had to make their toilsome way through a trackless, 
tangled wilderness. It took them about as many 
weeks, as they expected to be days, employed upon 
it. Their provisions entirely failed. They would 
toil all day on their painful journey, and then have 
nothing to eat at night but such roots, or berries, or 
nuts, as they might gather on their way. Their way 
was a way of unpleasantness, because they had no 
proper provision for their wants. Some of them died 
of starvation, and they were all wasted away to 
mere skeletons before they got through. The offi- 
cers and men engaged in that expedition displayed 
a degree of brave endurance, and nobleness of cha- 
racter which was perhaps never exceeded, and which 
reflects the highest honor on themselves, and on 
their country. And they would understand, much 
better than we can, how greatly the pleasantness of 
travellers' ways depends on having a proper provi- 



THE PROVISION FOUND IN WISDOM^ WAYS. 19 

sion for their wants. But those who walk in Wis- 
dom's ways have a provision for their w^ants that 
never fails. The Bible says to them, "God will sup- 
ply all you need, out of the riches of his grace, in 
Christ Jesus." God's Sabbaths are the resting-days 
w 7 hich he has appointed, for the refreshment of those 
who are travelling in "Wisdom's w^ays. The church 
is like an inn, which he has fitted, and furnished for 
their comfort. Here, a constant feast is prepared for 
them. Here, is the bread which came down from 
heaven, and of which whosoever eateth shall live 
forever. Here, are the wells of salvation from which 
his people draw water with great joy. It is living 
water which they yield. Those who drink of this 
water never thirst again, but they carry it with 
them, — " a well of water, springing up unto everlast- 
ing life." When David was walking in these ways 
he said, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not 
want. He maketh me to lie down in green pas- 
tures ; he leadeth me beside the still waters." In 
another place, he says that others "may lack and 
suffer hunger, but they that wait upon the Lord" — 
and this means those who walk in "Wisdom's ways — 
"shall want no manner of thing that is good." That 
is a glorious promise indeed ; and it is a precious 
provision which it makes for all who are walking in 
Wisdom's ways. Truly, there is a proper provision 
for them, and this makes the ways in which they 
are walking "ways of pleasantness." 

But there is a fifth thing which helps to make a way 
pleasant, and that is a pleasant prospect. 

Everybody, I suppose, has heard of the great 



20 AFRICAN AND SWISS SCENERY CONTRASTED. 

desert of Sahara in Africa. It reaches for hundreds 
of miles, in every direction, like a vast ocean of sand. 
There are no roads, no shady resting-places or cool 
fountains, there. No tall dark mountains there lift 
up their huge forms to the view. No fields of grain, 
no valleys thick with corn, no murmuring brooks, no 
flowery gardens, no beautiful groves, are there. Gro 
where you will, turn where you may, wide wastes of 
barren, burning sands are all the eye can rest upon. 
Suppose we had to travel, day after day, over those 
dreary, desert sands: would there be much pleasant- 
ness in our way ? No, indeed. The want of a plea- 
sant prospect would make it as uncomfortable as it 
well could be. "We should be all the time thinking 
about some of the beautiful roads we had travelled 
in our own country, like the shady lanes about Ger- 
mantown, or that most charming road along the 
Wissahickon ; and the remembrance of them would 
make the desert seem gloomier still by contrast. 
Switzerland, you know, is a country famous, all over 
the world, for its beautiful scenery. Hundreds, and 
thousands, of people go there, every year, just for 
the purpose of admiring its beauties. And those 
who travel through that country find their ways 
made ways of pleasantness, simply by the pleasant 
prospects which are before them there. They see 
mountains whose tops are covered with snow. 
Sometimes the clouds gather round them, and then, 
again, the sunbeams are reflected from them in all 
the varying colors of the rainbow. Other moun- 
tains are seen clothed with dark green woods, and 
streams of water are gushing down their sides like 



THE PLEASANT PROSPECTS IN WISDOM' S WAYS. 21 

threads of silver, and wild torrents dash themselves 
into foam and spray. The prospect varies, and 
changes continually, and affords unceasing plea- 
santness to those whose ways lead them through 
that land of beauty. 

But now, you may be ready to ask, What sort of 
prospects are afforded to those who walk in Wis- 
dom's ways ? Oh, here are pleasant prospects in- 
deed! Nothing in all the world can be compared 
to these, for interest and beauty. Prospects of hea- 
ven are to be seen from these ways. Did you ever 
read Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress ? Next to the 
Bible, it is one of the best books in the world. 
Everybody ought to read it. It represents the 
Christian, in one part of his journey, as reaching an 
elevated region called, "the Delectable Mountains," 
and looking through a telescope, and getting a view 
of heaven. Now, there are many of these moun- 
tains in Wisdom's w T ays, and heaven can be clearly 
seen from the top of them. The promises which 
God has written in the Bible are what I mean by 
these mountains. Look, for instance, at the last 
two chapters of the book of the Revelation : what 
a beautiful description of heaven we have there ! 
Why, when we read those chapters we feel as if we 
were standing on the top of a high mountain, and 
having a prospect of heaven, in all its glory, spread 
out before us. That, is the fullest and clearest pros- 
pect of it that we have. But there are a great 
many other prospects of heaven, to be met with in 
Wisdom's ways, less clear and extensive than this, 
yet all beautiful and pleasant prospects. And the 



22 A COMFORTABLE END. 

writer of that sweet hymn, which we sometimes 
sing, had been looking at these prospects, or medi- 
tating on the promises of God's word, when he 
wrote, — 

" There is a land of pure delight, 
Where saints immortal reign ; 
Eternal day excludes the night, 
And pleasures banish pain. 

" There, everlasting spring abides, 
And never-fading flowers : 
Death, like a narrow sea, divides 
This heavenly land from ours. 

"Bright fields, beyond the swelling flood, 
Stand dressed in living green ; 
So, to the Jews, fair Canaan stood, 
While Jordan rolled between." 

And these pleasant prospects, found in Wisdom's 
ways, make them ways of pleasantness. 

There is only one other thing I would speak of, as 
making a way pleasant, and that is, to have a comfort- 
able end in view. 

"When we are taking a journey, the question, 
"Where are we going ? must have a great effect upon 
our feelings. Every boy, or girl, who has had to go 
from home to boarding-school, will understand all 
about this. You remember how different your feel- 
ings were, when you were going away from home, 
from what they were, when you were returning 
home. Yet it was the same way, that you travelled, 
ii^ both cases. The chief thing which made the 
difference was the end, you had in view. On first 
taking that journey, you knew that the end of it 
was, a school among strangers. You were going to 



GOING FROM HOME OR RETURNING. 23 

mingle with persons whom you had never seen, or 
known before. You were going to engage in du- 
ties that were new, and trying. You expected to 
meet with difficulties, and perplexities, in this new 
situation, and you knew not yet what these would 
be. But you were afraid of them, and the mere 
thought of them was enough to make you feel un- 
comfortable. The end in view made your way un- 
pleasant. But, ah ! how different it was when vaca- 
tion-time came, and you were leaving school ! The 
road you had to travel w T as the same, but the end 
in view was different, and that made, oh, what a 
change in your feelings ! Instead of school, with its 
strange faces, and hard duties, you had now, no- 
thing to think of but your dear, sweet, happy home, 
with the looks of love, and smiles of affection, 
and all the fond familiar objects, which you knew 
were awaiting you there. And the thought of 
these things — the comfortable end you had in view — 
made your way home a way of unmingled pleasant- 
ness. And it is just the same in any other journey. 
Here, for example, is a stage-coach just starting on 
a journey of a hundred miles. Among the passen- 
gers are two young men. They are both going to 
the same place. They are going by the same road ; 
they are in the same conveyance, sitting on the 
same seat; they eat the same food: they breathe 
the same air ; they look out on the same beautiful 
scenery; and yet, while one of them talks, and 
smiles, and looks bright, and happy as a summer 
morning, the other looks very differently. He 
speaks to no one. He never smiles. He takes no 



24 TWO TRAVELLERS IN A STAGE-COACH. 

notice of the beautiful country; but, with downcast 
eye, and melancholy looks, he tries to avoid the ob- 
servation of those about him, and seems like the 
image of sorrow, and despair. The way they are 
travelling is a way of pleasantness to one of these 
young men, but a way of gloom and sadness to the 
other. And what makes the difference ? It is the 
end they have in view. One of them has been tra- 
velling in Europe, for several years, and is now 
returning to the home of his childhood. His 
family, and friends are all eagerly expecting him, 
and ready, with open arms, and warm affectionate 
hearts, to welcome him back again. His heart is 
fairly dancing within him, and every nerve in his 
system is tingling with delight. He has a comfort- 
able end in view, and that, makes his way all plea- 
santness. But the other, — poor fellow ! — he has com- 
mitted a forgery. His crime has been found out. 
He has been taken up, and is now on his way back 
to be tried, condemned, and punished. The grief 
and sorrow of his family, and friends, and a prison 
with its deep, and enduring disgrace, — this is the 
end before him : and can you wonder that it makes 
his way a way of unpleasantness ? 

And the end we have in view, in the great jour- 
ney of life, has just the same effect upon our feel- 
ings. Those who are walking in Wisdom's ways 
have a very comfortable end in view. They have a 
glorious home in heaven, to look forward to. There, 
in the company of all good people, with the holy 
angels, and God their Father, and Jesus their 
blessed Saviour, they shall dwell forever in un- 



HOW TO ENTER WISDOM'S WAYS. 25 

speakable happiness. Oh, this is a comfortable end 
to have in view ! This cannot fail to make the ways 
of Wisdom pleasantness, to those who walk in them. 
And when you think of these six things — the safe 
guide, the good company, the sure protection, the proper 
provision, the pleasant prospect, and the comfortable end 
— which are found in Wisdom's ways, you cannot 
wonder to hear it said that "her ways are ways of 
pleasantness." 

And now 7 1 think I hear some of you asking, How 
can we get into these ways and walk in them ? Let 
me tell you in a few closing words. When Jesus 
was on earth, he said, u I am the way" At another 
time he said, " I am the door ; by me, if any man 
enter in, he shall be saved." Now, we learn from 
these words that Wisdom's ways are all in Jesus ; 
and the door of entrance into these ways is found in 
Jesus. If any one feels that he is a sinner, and wants 
to get his sins pardoned, he must go and pray to God 
to pardon his sins for Jesus' sake. If any one feels 
that his heart is wicked, and he cannot make it any 
better, he must go and pray to God for Jesus' sake 
to change his wicked heart, and take away all his 
wrong feelings, and make him like Jesus. We 
must read the Bible to find out what Jesus did, and 
what he has told us to do, and then pray to God to 
give us grace to do these things ; and then we shall 
be walking in Wisdom's ways, and shall know our- 
selves how pleasant those ways are. 

May God guide us all in these pleasant ways, and 

bring us to his heavenly home at last, for Jesus' 

sake ! Amen. 

3 



THE SPIDER'S EXAMPLE. 

[AN ANNIVERSARY SERMON.] 

PftOV. xxx. 28 : "The spider taheth hold with her hands, 
and is in kings' palaces' 9 

Now, I dare say, my dear children, some of you 
will be ready to cry out, " What ! going to preach 
about an ugly spider?" Yes, I am going to preach 
about the spider. I know we dislike spiders very 
much. Almost everybody dislikes them. Some 
run away from them, as soon as they see them. 
Others try to kill them, whenever they can. But, 
although they are thus disliked, and killed, there is 
a great deal to admire about the spider, and there is 
something which we should do well to imitate, too. 
Why, one of the prettiest things I ever remember 
to have seen, was a spider's claw, when looked at 
through a microscope. Now, suppose we had a 
large microscope here. We catch a big spider and 
put him in, so that we may examine him carefully. 
Oh, there are some rare things for us now to see ! 
When we put the crawler in, he was about as big as 
a bean ; but see, now, there he is, almost as big as a 
bear. See, he is covered all over with rich, soft- 
looking fur. There is his huge head; and count 
how many eyes are in it. One, two, three, four, 
five, six, seven, eight ! Yes, there are eight eyes in 
his head, as shining, and bright as diamonds. Look, 

26 



THE WONDERFUL SPINNING-MACHINE. 27 

now, at his long legs. Each of them has a sort of 
hand at the end of it, with two fingers and a thumb. 
I suppose Solomon never saw a microscope, and 
never looked at a spider through one. Yet he 
knew what he was saying when he spoke of it as 
taking hold with its " hands" and not with its 
claws. But let us take one more look, through the 
microscope, at our spider. Right in the middle of 
his body is a curious spinning-machine. No human 
mechanic ever invented any thing to compare with, 
it. It weaves threads so delicate, that the finest silk 
thread, man ever wove, seems almost like a cable in 
comparison with it. And yet each one of these 
very fine threads which the spider weaves is made 
up of Jive thousand different threads. "What a won- 
derful spinning-machine is this ! How little people 
think, when they thoughtlessly crush what they call 
"an ugly spider," how much that is curious, and 
wonderful, and really beautiful, they are crushing ! 

But you may ask, "Well, what has all this to do 
with a Sunday-school anniversary sermon ? WTiy, 
it has a good deal to do with it, as we shall see, 
before we get through. Now, there are three ques- 
tions which I am going to ask, and answer; and 
these will be the things about this sermon which I 
want you especially to remember. The first question 
is this : — What is there about the spider, which it is worth 
our while to imitate ? 

The second is this : — What does the spider gain, for 
itself, by these things f 

And, third, is this : — What may we gain, to ourselves, 
by imitating these things ? 



28 HOW SPIDERS ARE TAUGHT. 

Now, tell me the first question to be answered. 
What is there, about the spider, which it is worth 
our while to imitate ? There are two things, in the 
spider, that we shall do well to imitate; and these 
are its industry, and its perseverance. What are they ? 
Industry means a love of work. The spider loves 
to work. It is born with a love of work. As soon 
as it begins to live, it begins to work. Every spider 
is a weaver, and a rigger. And the youngest spider 
knows how to do these things just as well as the 
oldest. The spider never has to go to school, or to 
take any lessons, in order to learn these trades. It 
knows them by what we call instinct Instinct 
means the knowledge which God gives to animals 
and living creatures, when he makes them. The 
little duck knows how to swim, as soon as it is 
hatched, without any teaching. And so the little 
bird knows how to build its nest, and the bee to 
gather honey, and make the honey-comb, without 
ever receiving a single lesson. God is the teacher 
of these creatures. He makes them understand 
how to do their work. And they always do it, in 
the very best way. IsTot all the weavers, and spin- 
ners, and riggers in the world, can beat the spider, 
in the work that he does. Look at that broken win- 
dow-pane, or at the upper corner of that door-way. 
The spider has been there, weaving his net. How 
light it is ! It seems as though the least puff of 
wind would blow it away. But no ; the strongest 
winds sweep by it, and yet it stands there still. See 
how regularly, and straightly the threads are drawn, 
and see too, how neatly the cross-pieces are fastened 



SPIDERS OF DIFFERENT TRADES. 29 

to them ! The spider never does his work hurriedly, 
and carelessly, as many children do. He always 
takes time for it, and does it well. His fastenings 
never come undone. He is really industrious and 
loves his work. Spiders have many different kinds 
of work to do, but they are all done in the very 
best manner. Some are hunting spiders. They 
spread their nets, just as the hunters set their traps, 
in the woods or fields, and wait patiently till their 
prey is caught in it, and then pounce upon them 
and devour them. Some are mason-spiders. These 
build little huts or houses, rather bigger than a 
thimble, to live in. They make doors to them, which 
they shut to, when they go in, and even have some- 
thing like bolts, to fasten them with, so that they 
can keep robbers from entering. And then there 
is another kind of spider, — the fishing or diving 
spider. These live beside the water. They make a 
sort of water-proof house, or diving-bell. In this they 
sink down to the bottom of the water, where they 
eat their food, and stay as long as they want to ; and 
when they get hungry, or tired of staying there, they 
come up to the top to enjoy a change of scene, and 
get a fresh supply of provisions. And sometimes 
the spider seems to act, just as if he had the power 
to reason, as men do. A gentleman, who was very 
fond of studying the habits of different animals, and 
insects, one day, when he was walking in his garden, 
found a large spider. It was near a pond of water. 
He took a long stick, and put the spider on one end 
of it. Then he went to the side of the pond, and, 

stretching out as far as he could, he thrust the other 

a* 



SO A SPIDER IN PRISON, AND HOW HE GOT OUT. 

end of the stick down into the bottom of the pond, 
and left it standing, straight up out of the water, 
with the spider upon it. He then sat down on the 
bank, to watch what the spider would do, when he 
found himself a prisoner there. Presently, the 
spider began to move. First he went down the 
stick till he came to the water. He went round, and 
round the stick, feeling, and looking carefully, till 
he found there was no getting off there. Then he 
went to the top, and found there was no way of 
escape there. Then he went up and down the dif- 
ferent sides of the stick, till he became satisfied that 
there was nothing leading from the stick, by means 
of which he could possibly get away. Then he went 
once more to the top of the stick, and remained quiet 
for a while. It seemed to the gentleman as though 
the spider were saying to himself, " Well, I'm in a 
nice fix now; what in the world am I to do ?" He 
seemed to be taking observations from the top of 
the stick, making up his mind what he was to do 
next. Then he set the spinning-machine, that he 
carried with him, in operation. He wove out a long 
coil of thread, — long enough to reach to the shore 
from his island-prison. "When he had done this, he 
fastened one end of his thread to the top of the 
stick and let the rest of it float in the breeze. 
When he had done this, he went sliding down along 
the thread which he had spun till he reached the 
end, where, after floating in the air a little while, 
he lighted safely on the land, and scampered away 
to his home. Now, certainly these things show us 
that the spider, notwithstanding his ugliness, de- 



PETER THE GREAT AN EXAMPLE OE INDUSTRY. 31 

serves our respect. As an example of industry, lie is 
worthy of our imitation. Industry is a most honor- 
able quality. It is becoming to those who occupy 
the humblest position in life, and it is equally be- 
coming to those who occupy the highest position. 
When God made Adam and Eve he put them in a 
garden, that they might have an opportunity of 
being industrious, by dressing and keeping it, be- 
cause he knew they could not be happy without 
industry, even in Paradise. For this same reason 
the angels are industrious in heaven. They serve 
God day and night. And they are very happy in 
serving him. The greatest men have generally been 
the most industrious. Peter the Great, the Emperor 
of Russia, was a very remarkable man. He did 
more, perhaps, for the honor and welfare of his 
country, than any other monarch that ever reigned 
over it. But all the greatness he gained for himself, 
and all the good he did for his country, was owing 
to his wonderful industry. He travelled from coun- 
try to country, and learned, by working with his 
own hands, the different trades which he wanted to 
have introduced among his own people. And our 
own great and good Washington, was as remarkable 
for his industry, as he was for every excellence that 
could adorn a man, a general, or a ruler. On one 
occasion, during the Revolutionary War, he was 
going round, in disguise, to visit some log-forts, that 
were being built. In the course of his walk, he met 
with a company of men, who were hard at work, 
under the command of a corporal. This petty 
officer, proud of his elevation above the common 



32 WASHINGTON AND THE CORPORAL. 

soldiers, was walking about, full of tlie thought of 
his own importance, and crying out, every now and 
then, "Come! work away, boys!" but he never 
offered to help them. But Washington, when he 
saw that the men had more work than they could 
well do, took off his coat, at once, and began to help 
them, saying, " Spring to it, my brave fellows ! we 
are working for our country; let us do it with a 
good wilL" He worked away with them, till they 
got through ; and then, when he was putting on his 
coat, he asked the officer, why he did not help the 
men, when he saw they had more work than they 
could well do. "I would have you to know, sir," 
said the little man, "that I am a corporal; I don't 
work !" " Oh ! are you, sir?" said the great man ; "I 
would have you to know that I am the commander- 
in-chief, and I do work." Well, industry, is one thing 
in the spider, which we should do well to imitate. 

But perseverance, is another thing in the spider, 
that deserves our imitation. By perseverance we 
mean, a determination not to be discouraged, in any 
thing we undertake. Some people will try to do a 
thing once, or twice, and then, if they meet with 
difficulties, they give up at once, and try no more. 
Now, no one will ever get to be either great, or 
good, in that way. We must expect difficulties, and 
disappointments, in every thing we attempt to do; 
and if we fail the first time, we must begin again, 
and so the second time, and the third time, and 
keep on beginning again, until we do it. This is 
just what the spider does. If you sweep down its 
web to-day, it will begin right away again and spin 



TRY AGAIN. 33 

another. And so it will go on, clay after day, as 
often as its web may be swept down. The spider 
seems to understand, or, at least, to act upon, the 
idea contained in those simple lines, — 

" If at first you don't succeed, 

Try, try again. 
Let your courage well appear ; 
If you only persevere, 
You will conquer, never fear; 

Try, try again. 

" Twice or thrice, though you should fail, 

Try again. 
If at last you would prevail, 

Try again. 
When you strive, there's no disgrace, 
Though you fail to win the race ; 
Bravely then, in such a case, 

Try, try again. 

" Let the thing be e'er so hard, 

Try again; 
Time will surely bring reward, 

Try again. 
That which other folks can do, 
Why, with patience,, may not you ? 
Why, with patience, may not you ? 

Try, try again." 

This is just what the spider does. And if we only 
learn to do this well we shall be sure, with God's 
blessing, to succeed in every right thing we under- 
take. The old proverb says, " Perseverance con- 
quers all things." And how many examples might 
be mentioned to show that this is true ! When 
Eobert Bruce was king of Scotland, the English 
armies were overrunning the land. Bruce tried 



34 BRUCE AND THE SPIDER. 

hard to drive them out of his country, and to free 
his people from their yoke. But he was defeated 
in several battles. After one of these defeats, he sat 
down to mourn over his own misfortunes, and those 
of his unhappy country. He began to despair of 
ever doing any thing, and was concluding to give 
up the attempt and not try any more, when his eye 
lighted on a spider, in one corner of the room, try- 
ing to fasten a thread in a particular direction. As 
often as he fastened it, it came loose, and as often as 
it came loose, he fastened it again. The defeated 
warrior was very much interested in watching the 
spider's operations. He saw what wonderful per- 
severance this little creature had. It seemed as 
though nothing would discourage it. He counted, 
some say, nineteen or twenty, and some say be- 
tween sixty and seventy, times that the spider re- 
newed its efforts to fasten the thread, till finally it 
succeeded. Then Bruce rose up, and resolved to 
imitate the example of the spider, and to struggle 
for the liberty of his country, till he succeeded or 
perished. 

I remember reading once of a bird, of the bobo- 
link species, that was confined with some canaries. 
When it heard the canaries sing, the bobolink tried 
to imitate them, but found it could not. Then it 
began a regular series of experiments, and, taking 
one note at a time, and trying till it mastered that, 
it went on, till at last it actually learned all their 
notes, and could join in concert with the canaries, 
and sing just as well as they. 

"We should think that it was quite impossible for 



THE BLIND SCULPTOR. 35 

a blind man ever to become a sculptor, and learn to 
carve out images of men and animals, from wood 
and stone, without ever being able to see them. 
But perseverance has accomplished even this, as it 
did, in the case of the blind sculptor of Switzerland. 
This man was attacked with the smallpox, when he 
was only five years old. It left him entirely blind. 
Before losing his sight, he had often played with 
those little figures which the Swiss people make, 
and had even tried to handle a knife, and form some 
himself. When his sight was gone, he often thought 
about those images. Then he would take them in 
his hands, and feel them, and try to comfort himself, 
for the loss of sight, by measuring them with his 
fingers. He would feel them again, and again, and 
turn them over in every way, till he was able, by 
degrees, to tell exactly, by the touch, the size and 
proportions of the figure. Then he began to think 
whether he could not succeed in supplying the loss 
of sight, by the sense of touch. His father and 
mother were both dead ; and, finding himself alone 
and destitute, he resolved, rather than beg, to try to 
support himself by his own exertions. 

Taking a piece of wood, and a chisel, he began to 
work. His first attempts were very troublesome, 
and very trifling. Often would he destroy, by a 
single notch made too deep, a piece of work to 
which he had devoted long days of labor. Such 
difficulties would have discouraged most persons, 
but the blind man persevered. After many trials, 
he at length succeeded in using his chisel with a 
steady hand; and so carefully would he examine 



36 the spider's gains. 

each fold of the drapery, one after another, and the 
shape of each limb, till he came, as it were, to see 
by means of his fingers, the figure he was trying to 
copy. 

Thus he went on by degrees, till he has reached 
what seems an almost incredible perfection ; for he 
is able to engrave from memory, the features of a 
face, and make one exactly like it. He is now 
seventy years old, but in good health, and works 
every day as in his youth. In his lifetime he has 
sculptured many hundred figures. He is happy, and 
contented with his lot, and his works remain as so 
many monuments of the wonderful triumph of per- 
severance over difficulties. 

Its industry, and perseverance, then, are the two 
good things in the spider, which we shall do well to 
imitate. This was the first question we were to 
consider. 

We come now to our second question; and that is 
this : — What does the spider gain by its industry and 
perseverance ? 

Solomon says, " The spider taketh hold with her 
hands, and is in kings' palaces/ ' There are two 
things, the spider gains by exercising these good 
qualities. It gains an honorable place, and an honest 
living. A king's palace is an honorable place, and 
there the spider's industry brings her. I suppose 
there never was a king's palace built, so grand and 
fine, but what the spider took hold with her hands 
and found her way into it. All the soldiers, and 
servants, that might be set to guard, and keep it, 
could not prevent the spider from getting in. You 



THE SPIDER'S LIVING AN HONEST ONE. 37 

know Solomon built a very magnificent palace for 
his queen, the daughter of Pharaoh, king of Egypt, 
and all the fine ladies of his court. And no doubt 
great pains were taken to keep out spiders, and all 
such ugly insects. And when, after all his care and 
pains, Solomon looked up to the window of his 
palace, or to the corner of the beautiful pavilion, 
that hung over his throne, and saw an old spider, 
spreading out his web there, I dare say he felt very 
much vexed. But there he was, and there he would 
be. Or, if they swept him down, and killed him, 
pretty soon there would be another in his place. So 
that, no doubt, the wise man spoke from his own ex- 
perience when he said, " The spider taketh hold 
with her hands, and is in kings' palaces." The 
industry and perseverance of the spider gain her 
an honorable place. 

And, at the same time, they gain for her an honest 
Iking. But now, I think, I see some serious, thought- 
ful child shaking his head, and saying softly to him- 
self, "Well, I don't know exactly, about that. It 
seems to me, that this thing of setting traps for poor 
innocent flies, and catching, and eating them, is not 
a very honest way of getting a living after all !" It 
would not be an honest way for us, to get our living 
in such a way, but it is an honest way for the spider. 
Now, my dear children, the only correct rule by 
which to judge whether any thing is right, or wrong, 
is to ask what the will of God is, concerning it. 
God cannot will, or order any thing wrong; and 
whatever God does will, or order, you may be sure, 
is right. It would not be honest, or right, for you or 



38 WHAT MAKES ANY THING HONEST OR RIGHT. 

me to get our living by robbing our fellow-crea- 
tures, because this is contrary to the will of God. 
His command to us is, "Thou shalt not steal." 
"Do violence to no man." But isn't it honest for 
the fisherman to throw his line, or net, into the river 
or sea, and get his living by catching the poor inno- 
cent fish ? Certainly it is. God made the fish for 
this purpose. It is his will that they should be 
caught and eaten ; and this makes it honest, and 
right, for the fisherman to get his living by catching 
them. Isn't it honest, and right, for the butcher to 
take the ox, or the sheep, to the slaughter-house and 
kill him ? Certainly it is. God made them to be 
eaten. It is the will of God that they should be 
killed, for our food ; and this makes it honest, and 
right, for the butcher to get his living by killing 
them. And, just so, God made the flies for the 
spider to eat. It is the will of God that he should 
eat them. And, therefore, when he employs his 
industry and perseverance in spreading his web, and 
catching flies, he is gaining an honest living by it. 
An honorable place, and an honest living are the 
two things which the spider gains, by these qualities 
so worthy of our imitation. 

But there is a third question, we were to ask ; and 
we are ready for it now. The third question is this : 
— What may we gain, by industry, and perseverance, in the 
use of the means in our power ? We may gain a more 
honorable place, and a better life, than that of the spider, 
and we may gain these for others, as well as ourselves. 

"We may gain a more honorable place than the 
spider. And what is this? It is a place in the 



A BETTER PLACE THAN THE SPIDER^. 30 

great palace of the King of heaven. That, is worth 
more than all the world — yes, more than ten thou- 
sand worlds — can give. It is spoken of, in the Bible, 
as a place which God has been preparing from the 
foundation of the world. Solomon's temple was 
very splendid, and yet it only took him seven years 
to build it. This world that we live in is a very 
beautiful world, and yet it only took G-od six days 
to make it. But it is almost six thousand years 
since the world was made. And all this time God 
has been preparing that heavenly temple in which 
his people are to dwell forever. How very glorious 
it must be ! Oh, what an honor to gain a place there ! 
All the most splendid palaces of earthly kings are 
only like toys, and baby-houses, in comparison with 
it. But you must not think, my dear children, 
because we speak of gaining a place there, that any 
thing we can do — any works or goodness of ours — 
will secure this blessing to us. Oh, no. God gives 
it, of his own free grace, to poor sinners, such as we 
are, for the sake of what Jesus did, and suffered for 
us. But we must repent of our sins, and believe in 
Jesus, and then be industrious and persevering in try- 
ing to learn, and do his will, and We shall certainly 
gain this honorable place. In this way we may, like 
the spider, take hold with our hands, and be in the 
palace of the Great King. That, will be indeed a 
more honorable place than ever the spider can gain. 
And how different our position will be there, from 
that of the spider, in an earthly palace ! The spider 
is only in his place for a little while, but we shall be 
in God's palace forever and ever. The spider, when 



40 A PLACE IN GOD'S PALACE. 

he gets into a king's palace, lias to keep out of sight, 
in some dark corner, or immediately he is swept 
down, and turned out, or killed. But, if we enter 
God's palace, Jesus will take us everywhere about, 
and show us all the beautiful things there, and no- 
body will dare to hurt us, or send us away, or ask 
what business we have there. The spider's nature 
is not changed, because he gets into a king's palace. 
He is none the better, or prettier, for being there. 
But it will be different with us, if we gain a place in 
God's palace. Our nature will be changed, before 
we enter there. Every thing sinful will be taken 
away from us. Jesus, the King of that palace, will 
make us as good, and as beautiful as he is himself. 
He will make us look like him, and he will make us 
be like him. Can any thing be thought of so de- 
lightful as this ? Is it not truly a more honorable 
place than the spider's, that we may gain for our- 
selves, by industry and perseverance, in serving God ? 
But then we may gain a better life too, as well as a 
more honorable place, than the spider gains in this 
way. No doubt the spider finds a good deal of en- 
joyment, such as it is, in its own mode of living. 
It would not suit us, indeed. We should find no 
pleasure in it. But God is so good, so full of love 
and happiness himself, that every living thing he 
has made, even down to the very tiniest insect that 
moves, finds pleasure in the way of life appointed 
for it. With most of these, as with the spider, the 
enjoyment of life is of a very low kind. It is 
chiefly, if not entirely, enjoyment connected merely 
with eating and drinking. Now, it is true, that this 



A BETTER LIFE THAN THE SPIDER'S. 41 

is a great deal better than no life or enjoyment at 
all. But, ah ! how very different, from this, will the 
life and enjoyment be of those who "take hold 
with their hands,' ' and gain a place in the palace 
of the King of kings. Their life will not be 
for a few days only, but for everlasting days. It 
will be eternal life. Nobody will know what this 
means till they come to find it out by experience. 
And their enjoyment will not be in eating and 
drinking, but in something far, far better. When 
St. Paul was speaking about this once, he said, " The 
kingdom of God" (and by this he meant the happi- 
ness of heaven) " is not meat and drink, but right- 
eousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." 
The happiness of heaven will be found, in knowing 
and loving God, in studying his wonderful works, in 
growing more and more like him, and in serving 
him, according to his will. This is the kind of life 
the angels live. How noble, how glorious, how 
happy it must be ! Oh, may we not well say, that 
industry, and perseverance, in trying to serve God, 
will gain for us a better life than they gain for the 
spider ? 

And then, by imitating the spider, in this way, we 
may help others to gain these blessings too, as well as 
gain them ourselves. This is something the spider 
never can do. It lives for itself alone. The indus- 
try, and perseverance, with which it weaves its web, 
and catches flies, is all for itself, and only for itself. 
But it is different with us. And now we come to 
that part of the sermon which bears upon our anni- 
versary. Our missionary offering, we all feel, is one 

4* 



42 DOING GOOD TO OTHERS. 

of the most interesting things connected with these 
happy anniversaries. In preparing these offerings 
we have room to exercise industry and perseverance. 
We make our offerings for the purpose of sending 
the gospel to those who are living in "the dark 
places of the earth, which are full of the habitations 
of cruelty." And in sending the gospel to these 
benighted people, like the spider, we are weaving a 
net; but of a very different kind from his, and for a 
very different purpose. He weaves his net to catch 
flies. We w^eave ours to catch immortal souls. He 
desires to catch flies, that he may plunder them, and 
torture them, and put them to death. We desire to 
catch souls, in the net of the gospel, to enrich them, 
and bless them, and make them happy forever, in the 
palace of the King of heaven. Our object, in doing 
this, is beautifully expressed in one of our sweet 
anniversary hymns, which says, — 

"We bring our little offering; 

And, humble though it be, 
We ask our God to bless it, 

On low, and bended knee : 
Perhaps a Bible purchased 

With this, so freely given, 
May teach some wandering heathen child 

The way to God and heaven." 

We know that this has been the result of our offer- 
ing in one case, and we hope it may be so, in many 
cases. You remember, my dear children, that, the 
very first time we had a missionary offering at our 
anniversary, we sent part of our collection to Africa, 
and part of it to China. Four or five years after- 



ENCOURAGEMENT TO WORK. 43 

wards, just a few days before the time for holding 
another anniversary, we received a letter from one 
of our missionaries in China, giving a very interest- 
ing account of the conversion, and happy death of 
a Chinese youth, connected with the mission-school. 
This youth had been taken into the school to be 
supported, and educated, by means of the money 
sent out from our first missionary collection. After 
being there two or three years, he became a Chris- 
tian. Then he was taken sick, and died. But he 
died with a hope in Jesus. And it was very plea- 
sant, and encouraging to us, to hear of such a result 
following from our first missionary offering. It 
seemed like a voice from heaven saying to us, "Go 
on in your good work; do not be discouraged; try 
all you can to send the gospel to the poor souls 
perishing without it, and you shall reap a rich re- 
ward at last." Then let us "take hold with our 
hands" afresh in this blessed work. Let us imitate 
the industry, and perseverance, of the spider; and 
may God grant, that we may both gain a place in 
the palace of the King of heaven for ourselves, and 
be the means of bringing a great many others there 
also, for Jesus' sake. Amen. 



THE MARKS OF A BEN-ONI. 

Gen. xxxv. 18 : She called Ms name Ben-oni; but Ms father 
called Mm Benjamin, 

These words were spoken of Rachel, Jacob's 
wife. Her youngest child had just been born : she 
was very sick, and was going to die. The little 
child was lying by her. She called to see it ; she 
kissed it, and called his name Ben-oni. Ben-oni 
means, "the son of my sorrow." This child was 
about to occasion the death of his mother, and 
therefore she gave him this name. She was sorry 
to leave her husband, her family, and her friends ; 
and this feeling of sorrow led her to call his name 
Ben-oni. 

"But his father called him Benjamin. " Benja- 
min means, "the son of a right hand." Our right 
hand is a great comfort and blessing to us. What 
could we do without a right hand ? 

Now, every child that is born into this world will 
be either a Ben-oni, or a Benjamin. There is not 
much difference between these two names, but there 
is a great deal of difference between the natures 
which they represent. All these children, here as- 
sembled, are either Ben-onies, or Benjamins. These 
names refer to girls as well as to boys. You will 
all be children of sorrow, or children of help and 
comfort to your parents. 

44 



ILL-TEMPER THE MARK OF A BEN-ONI. 45 

Now, the great question, for us to consider is, 
What are the marks of a Ben-oni, or of a Ben- 
jamin ? 

We shall mention four things which may always 
be considered as the marks of a Ben-oni ; and the 
opposite of these, of course, will be the marks of a 
Benjamin. 

The first mark of a Ben-oni — "a child of sor- 
row" — is ill-temper. 

Suppose you had to walk, four or five miles, with 
a pebble in your shoe ; or suppose you had to wear a 
coat or dress with a pin sticking in it ; or suppose 
you had to lie all night in bed with a porcupine by 
your side, sticking you with his sharp-pointed quills : 
what an uncomfortable thing it would be ! But 
none of these things are so uncomfortable as to 
be connected with an ill-temper. An ill-temper is 
the most uncomfortable thing in the world. We 
can protect ourselves against many uncomfortable 
things. Thus, we put roofs on our houses to keep 
the rain off, which would be uncomfortable ; we put 
doors and windows in our houses to keep the cold 
and wind out, which would be uncomfortable ; but 
how are we to keep bad tempers out of our houses ? 
All peevish, cross, ill-natured children are Ben-onies, 
— children of sorrow to their parents, and the fami- 
lies where they dwell. 

There were two little boys, in a Southern city, 
whose names were Augustus, and Eugene. They 
were playing top, and had but one between them, 
which they spun alternately. At first they played 
very pleasantly, but soon became very angry and 



46 A BROTHER KILLED FOR A TOP. 

began to speak unkindly. Eugene said, "It's my 
turn to spin the top now." 

"No, it's not; it's mine!" said Augustus. 

Then they grew very angry about it. Augustus 
then said to Eugene,— 

"You lie!" 

Then Eugene struck him, and Augustus struck him 
back again. They seized each other in great rage, 
and, in the scuffle, Eugene took a long sharp knife 
from his pocket and stabbed Augustus, so that he 
died in a few moments. Augustus lost his life, and 
Eugene became a murderer, merely to decide whose 
turn it w r as to spin a top. There was ill-temper; 
and what a Ben-oni that ill-temper made him to his 
parents, and to the family to which he belonged ! 

There was a rich nobleman, in England, who had 
a little daughter, named Anne. They were very 
fond of her; for she was a fine little creature, very 
lively, and merry, and affectionate, and exceedingly 
beautiful. But she had a very ill-temper. When 
any thing vexed her, she would fly into a rage, and 
turn and strike any one that provoked her. After 
every fit of anger she would be ashamed and sorry, 
and resolve never to do so again. But the next 
time she was provoked it was all forgotten, and she 
was as angry as ever. "When she was between four 
and five years of age, her mother had a little son, — 
a sweet little tender baby. Anne's nurse, who was 
thoughtless and wicked, loved to tease her, because 
she was so easily irritated ; and so she told her that 
her father and mother would not care for her now, 
because all their love and pleasure would be in this 



LITTLE ANNE A MURDERER BY ILL-TEMPER. 47 

little brother, and they would not mind her. Poor 
Anne burst into a flood of tears, and cried bitterly, 
saying, " You are a naughty woman to say so ! 
Mamma will always love me ; I know she will, 
and I'll go this very moment and ask her." And 
she ran out of the nursery and hastened to her mo- 
ther's room. The servant called after her: — " Come, 
miss, you needn't go to your mother's room ; she 
won't see you now." Anne burst open the door, 
but was instantly caught hold of by a strange wo- 
man, she had never seen before. "My dear," said 
this woman, "you cannot see your mother just- 
now;" and she was going on to tell that it w r as 
because she w r as very sick, and could not be dis- 
turbed. But she was too angry to listen; and she 
screamed and kicked at the woman, who was 
obliged to take her by force and carry her back to 
the nursery. "When she put her down she gave the 
servant a charge not to let her go to her mother's 
room. This added to her rage. But the thought- 
less, wicked servant, instead of trying to soothe and 
quiet her, burst out into a laugh, and said, " I told 
you that, miss. You see your mamma does not 
love you now." Then the poor child became mad 
with fury. She seized a smoothing-iron, and, dart- 
ing forward, threw it upon the baby's head, as it lay 
in the cradle. The child gave one struggle, and 
breathed no more. 

Anne's mother died that night of grief. Anne 
grew up in the possession of great riches. She 
had every outward comfort, about her, that money 
could procure; but she was a very unhappy and 



48 THE LITTLE GIRLS WHO WERE BENJAMINS. 

miserable woman. She was never known to smile. 
The thought, of the terrible consequences of that 
one outburst of passion, pressed upon her, like a 
heavy burden, all her days. Ah! what a Ben-oni 
this girl became ! She was a child of sorrow to her 
parents. Her ill-temper made her so. If you give 
way to such tempers, my dear young friends, you 
will certainly be Ben-onies ; but if you strive, and 
pray, against such feelings, and try to be gentle, 
kind, and pleasant to those around you, then you 
will be Benjamins, — children of the right hand to 
your parents. See, now, how differently such chil- 
dren will act. 

A gentleman was walking on the Battery, in the 
city of New York, one day, and, as he passed a little 
girl, who w^as cheerfully rolling her hoop, he said to 
her, "You are a nice little girl;" to which she 
replied, patting her little brother on the head, "And 
Bobbie is a nice little brother too." Here was 
good-temper, which would make this dear child 
"a child of the right hand" to her parents, and cause 
her to be loved by all who were about her. 

A mother who was in the habit of asking her 
children, before they retired at night, what they had 
done to make others happy, found her young twin- 
daughters silent. 

She spoke tenderly of habits and dispositions 
founded on the Golden Rule, — " Do unto others as 
you would have them do to you." Still, these 
bright little faces were bowed in silence. The ques- 
tion was repeated. "I cannot remember any thing 
good all this day, dear mother," said one of the 



IDLENESS THE MARK OF A BEN-ONI. 49 

little girls ; " only one of my class-mates was happy, 
because she had gained the head of the class, and I 
smiled on her, and ran to kiss her. She said I was 
good. That is all, dear mother." 

The other spoke still more tenderly: — "A little 
girl, who sat with me on the bench at school, lost a 
little brother ; and I saw that, while she studied her 
lesson, she hid her face in the book and wept. I felt 
sorry, and laid my face on the same book, and wept 
with her. Then she looked up, and was comforted, 
and put her arms around my neck; but I do not 
know why she said I had done her good." 

These were children of good tempers, — children 
whose pleasant dispositions would make them chil- 
dren of the right hand to their parents, — real Benja- 
mins indeed. 

Ill-temper, then, is the first mark of a Ben-oni, 
— a child of sorrow. 

The second mark of a Ben-oni is idleness. 

Idle children love to lie in bed in the morning ; 
they love to do nothing all day, if they can help it, 
but play. 

It is a great trouble to get them to study, to read, 
or to work. Now, idle children always make idle 
men ; for the habits which children form, while they 
are children, will surely remain with them, when 
they grow up to be men and women. 

John Alsop was about fifteen years old when his 
father, who had just moved into a new settlement, 
was clearing land. One day the father and a neigh- 
bor were engaged in building a log-fence, which 
was made of the trunks of the trees, that were 



50 RUNNING AFTER SQUIRRELS. 

cleared off the lands. First, they laid the fence one 
log high, with the ends of each length passing a 
little way by each other. Notches were cut in the 
ends, and a block was laid crosswise, where the ends 
lapped, and then another tier was laid on the cross- 
pieces, till the fence was high enough. To roll up 
the top logs, they would lay long poles, called skids, 
one end on the top of the logs, and the other on the 
ground, and roll up the logs on these. But, as the 
logs were very heavy, they were obliged to stop 
several times to rest, or to get a new hold ; and it 
was John's business, when they stopped, to put a 
block under the log, to keep it from rolling back. 
Having given a hard lift, and tugging with all his 
might, the father called out, " There, Johnny ! put 
under your block ! — quick !" Johnny started nimbly, 
and snatched up his block, when, suddenly, the 
chirp of a little squirrel struck his ear. Instantly, 
down went his block, and away he ran after the 
squirrel, leaving his father, and the other man, to 
hold the log till he came back. This anecdote gives 
you John's character. He was an idle boy. He 
had no fondness for work ; he was not willing to 
follow any one object, or pursuit, long enough to 
accomplish any thing. Thirty years after this, a 
gentleman, who had known him in his youthful 
days, inquired about him, of one of his neighbors, 
who related this anecdote, and added, "He has been 
running after squirrels ever since." He never was 
steady and persevering in the pursuit of any thing. 
"When he was a young man, he never could make up 
his mind decidedly what employment to follow. 



ALL THINGS IN NATURE BUSY. 51 

He had no industry ; he would try one thing a little 
while, get tired of it, and then take up another; 
but followed no business long enough to get well 
acquainted with it. He has always been hunting the 
squirrel. 

Now, we are to remember, dear children, that 
God is busy at all times, and almost every thing 
that God has made is busy. Look at the sun ; it is 
always at work, shining and shining and shining 
from one year's end to the other. In the daytime 
it is shining in our part of the world, and when it 
is night to us, it is shining in the opposite part of 
the world. And so it is with the moon, — always 
shining, in one part of the world or the other. So 
it is with the sea ; its waves are rising, and falling, 
and rolling, and flowing, continually. So it is with 
the rivers ; they are continually running, from the 
fountains where they spring, on, on to the ocean. 
And so it is with the little birds, and little fishes, 
and the bees, and the ants : none of these are idle. 

Idleness always leads to ignorance, and poverty, 
and uselessness, dear children, and idle persons 
never do any thing good, to themselves, or to 
others. They never succeed in business ; they never 
get on in life. 

A gentleman in England had an estate which was 
worth about a thousand dollars a year. For a while 
he kept his farm in his own hands, but at length, 
found himself so much in debt, that he was obliged 
to sell one-half of his place to pay up. The rest he 
let out to a farmer, for several years. Towards the 
end of that time, the farmer, on coming to pay his 



52 EXAMPLES OF INDUSTRY. 

rent, asked him whether he would sell his farm. 
The gentleman was surprised, that the farmer should 
be able to make him an offer for his place. " Pray, 
tell me," said he, "how it happens that, while I 
could not live upon twice as much land, for which I 
paid no rent, you are regularly paying me five hun- 
dred dollars a year for the farm, and able in a few 
years to purchase it?" "The reason is plain," an- 
swered the farmer ; " it lies in the difference be- 
tween 'go' and 'come." 9 "I do not understand 
you," said the gentleman. "I mean," said the 
farmer, "that you sat still and said, 6ro; I get up and 
say, Come. You lie in bed, and enjoy your ease ; I 
rise early in the morning, and attend to my busi- 
ness." In other words, this was an industrious 
man ; there was no love of idleness about him, and 
this led to his success in life. 

I remember another anecdote, which plainly shows 
the advantages of industry. 

There was once a young man who was commenc- 
ing life as a clerk. One day his employer said to 
him, "Now, to-morrow, that cargo of cotton must 
be got out, and weighed, and we must have a regu- 
lar account of it." He was an industrious young 
man, — a young man of great energy. This was the 
first time he had been intrusted with the superin- 
tendence of work like this. He made his arrange- 
ments the night before, spoke to the men about 
their carts and horses, and resolved to begin very 
early the next day. He instructed the laborers to 
be there at half-past four o'clock in the morning. 
They set to work, and the thing was done; and 



THE PROMPT YOUNG MAN. 53 

about ten or eleven o'clock the master came in, and 
saw the young man sitting in the counting-house, 
and looked very black at him, supposing his com- 
mands had not been executed. "I thought," said 
he, "you were instructed to get out that car? 3 this 
morning?" "It is all done, si " said the young 
man, "and here is the account of it." This one 
act made that young man's fortune. It fixed his 
character. It gave his employer a confidence in 
him that was never shaken. He found him to be a 
man of industry, a man of promptness, and he very- 
soon found that he was one that could not be 
spared; he was necessary to the concerns of that 
establishment, and became one of the partners. He 
was a religious man, and went through a life of 
great benevolence, and at his death-bed was able to 
leave his children an ample fortune. His industry 
made him a Benjamin indeed. 

And, just as idle boys will grow up to be idle 
men, so will idle girls grow up to be idle women. 
They will be of no use to themselves, and of no use 
to anybody else. But those who form early habits 
of industry will certainly rise to honor, usefulness, 
and happiness. 

Miss Rachel Cowe was the daughter of a wealthy 
man, engaged in an extensive business. He lived 
in Aberdeen, Scotland. But, in that country, the 
females of many families in the higher ranks of 
life, as well as those in middling circumstances, 
were instructed in some branch of business suited 
to their strength and capacity. An excellent cus 

5* 



54 A NOBLE EXAMPLE OF FEMALE INDUSTRY. 

torn ; for, whatever may be our circumstances to- 
day, we know not what they may be to-morrow; 
riches are no sure dependence, for they often "take 
to themselves wings and fly away." 

Rachel Cowe was early put to learn a branch of 
the millinery business. This she industriously ac- 
quired, though she knew not that she should ever 
need it. But, after a while, her father's business 
began to decline, and at length he failed. He gave 
up to his creditors every thing but their wearing- 
apparel, and a few books. Both her parents were 
left with no means of support, in their old age. 
There was no one now but herself, on whom they 
could depend. When Rachel saw the decline of 
her father's business, she obtained his consent to set 
up her own. She had a small sum of money, and 
she borrowed a little more, of a friend, to begin with. 
She began her business, praying that God would 
prosper it, and keep her from the new temptations 
to which she would be exposed. She was successful. 
In a few months she was able to pay what she had 
borrowed, and to furnish a house for herself. When 
her father's business completely failed, and her pa- 
rents were thrown upon the world, destitute of the 
means of support, she was prepared to receive them 
into her own house. She supported them by her 
labors, she nursed them, with the utmost tenderness, 
in their illness, she attended them in their last sick- 
ness, and saw them die in the hope of glory. What 
a child of comfort was this industrious girl to her 
parents ! And this is not all. While they lived, she 
would listen to no proposals of marriage ; but, after 



THE FOLLY OF PRIDE. 55 

their death, she became the wife of Rev. Dr. Milne, 
and accompanied him on his mission to China, 
where she was a great solace, and comfort to him, 
and a helper to him in his labors. Thus, the in- 
dustrious girl became the industrious woman ; and 
I would have you all, my dear girls, to follow her 
example. 

Yes ; idleness is the second mark of a Ben-oni. 

The third mark of a Ben-oni is pride. 

Some children are proud of their clothes. This 
is very silly indeed ; for the butterflies have much 
more beautiful clothes than we, and yet they are 
never proud of their dress. Some children are 
proud of their families. This, also, is very silly, for 
we have all sprung, at first, from one father. Some 
children are proud about their houses. This, too, is 
very silly, for, by-and-by, they will all crumble into 
the dust, from which they have been taken, while 
the grave is the one house to which we must all 
come at last. 

Proud children feel and think themselves better 
than others, and are often unwilling to engage in 
honest and honorable employments. 

Listen to what I am going to tell you. 

Chief- Justice Marshall was a great man ; but great 
men are never proud. He was not too proud to 
wait upon himself. He was in the habit of going 
to market himself and carrying home his purchases. 
Often he would be seen returning, at sunrise, with 
poultry in one hand, and vegetables in the other. 
On one of these occasions, a fashionable young man 
from the North, who had removed to Richmond, 



56 JUDGE MARSHALL AND THE TURKEY. 

was swearing violently, because he could find no 
one to carry home his turkey. Judge Marshall 
stepped up, and asked him where he lived. When 
he heard, he said, " That is in my way, and I will 
take your turkey home for you." When they came 
to the house, the young man inquired, "What shall 
I pay you ?" " Oh, nothing,' ' said the Judge ; "you 
are welcome ; it was all in the way, and it was no 
trouble to me." "Who is that polite old gentleman 
who brought home my turkey for me?" asked the 
young man of a by-stander. "Oh," said he, "that 
was Judge Marshall, Chief- Justice of the United 
States." "Why did he bring home my turkey?" 
"He did it," uaid the by-stander, "to give you a 
rebuke, and teach you to attend to your own 
business." 

True greatness, never feels above doing any thing 
that is useful; but especially the truly great man 
will never feel above helping himself; his own in- 
dependence of character depends upon his being 
able to help himself. The great Dr. Franklin, when 
he first established himself in business, in Philadel- 
phia, wheeled home the paper, which he purchased 
for his printing-office, upon a wheelbarrow with his 
own hands. 

Pride, then, bear in mind, children, is the third 
mark of a Ben-oni. 

The fourth and only other mark that we shall 
speak of is disobedience. 

There is nothing on which the comfort and hap- 
piness of parents, and families depend more, than on 
the obedience of children. 



A BOY GOING TO SEA TO SPITE HIS PARENTS. 57 

My dear children, if you want to plant thorns on 
the pillows of your parents, and plunge daggers into 
their bosoms, be disobedient. If you want to make 
them as uncomfortable as they possibly can be, in 
this world, then be disobedient. This is the chief 
mark of a Ben-oni. 

I remember reading, not long ago, of a gentleman 
in England who had two sons. He was a kind, ex- 
cellent, pious man, and did every thing for the com- 
fort of his children, that he thought it right to do. 
But sometimes the boys were anxious to do things 
which their parents were not willing that they 
should do. One Sunday, the oldest boy went to his 
father, and asked permission to take the carriage, 
and go riding, in the afternoon, instead of going to 
church. 

His father told him he could not, because it would 
be breaking the Sabbath. The boy was very much 
displeased, because his father would not let him go 
riding, as some of the boys in the neighborhood 
had been allowed by their parents to do. He was 
so wicked about this, that he determined no longer 
to stay at home, because his father would not let 
him do just what he wanted. So, the next day, he 
persuaded his brother to go with him, and they 
went down to Portsmouth, a town by the sea-side, 
intending to go to sea. 

Before going, however, they called on the Rev. Mr. 
Griffin, to assist them to get a situation, on board a 
man-of-war. This good man, perceiving that they 
were not accustomed to the mode of life in which 
they were about to enter, inquired of them their 



58 THE END OF HIS COURSE. 

object in going to sea. The eldest boy frankly told 
him, they were going, in order to spite their parents ! 
Then he told him the story of what had taken place 
at home, — of his father's unwillingness to allow him 
to ride on Sunday, — and said he was going to sea in 
order to make his father feel sorry for refusing to 
gratify him. The good clergyman tried to show 
them the guilt, and folly, of the course they were 
about to pursue, and to set before them the un- 
avoidable consequences that would result from it. 
The younger son was impressed by the counsels, and 
advice of the clergyman, and went home ; but the 
older son resolved to go on, in his evil course. 

Some twelve, or fifteen years after this had taken 
place, this same clergyman was called to the prison 
in the town of Portsmouth, to see a sailor, who was 
condemned to be executed, and, who was going to 
be hung in a few days. 

When he entered the cell of the prison, he saw a 
wretched, miserable, squalid-looking creature, sit- 
ting by a table in the cell, who looked up to him as 
he entered, and said, "Do you not remember me, 
sir?" "]STo," said the clergyman; "I do not recol- 
lect that I ever saw you before." Then the poor 
man recalled to him the story of the boy who went 
from home in order to spite his parents. "And are 
you the miserable man," said the clergyman, "who 
did this?" "Yes," said the poor culprit; "I fol- 
lowed out my own plan; I went on the course 
which I had chosen, contrary to your advice, and to 
my own convictions ; I plunged into all sorts of 
wickedness, and sin, and finally became involved in 



THE SEA-CAPTAIN^ SON. 59 

a robbery, and murder, for which I am now about to 
suffer the penalty. And all this, in consequence of 
my disobedience, to my parents !" The clergyman 
wrote to the father of this unhappy man, who came 
to visit his son in his last hours, and who had the 
unspeakable anguish of standing by and seeing him 
suffer the penalty of the law, and reap the bitter 
fruits of his disobedience. 

"What a Ben-oni that son was to his father! 

I have another story to tell you, of a disobedient 
son, in order to illustrate the point on which we are 
now speaking. 

The youth, of whom I am about to speak, was the 
son of a sea-captain. His father had been absent 
from home, on a long voyage. During his absence, 
his child had grown, from being an infant, into a 
rough and careless boy. He was becoming restive, 
under his mother's control ; her gentle voice no 
longer restrained him. He was often wilful, and 
sometimes disobedient. He thought it showed a 
manly superiority, to be independent of a mother's 
influence. 

About this time his father came home ; and it was 
very fortunate that he did return. He soon per- 
ceived the spirit of disobedience that was stirring in 
his son. The boy saw that it displeased his father, 
although, for a few days, he said nothing about it. 

One afternoon, in October, a bright, golden day, 
the father told his son to get his hat and take a 
walk with him. They turned down an open field, a 
favorite playground for the children in the neigh- 
borhood. After talking cheerfully on different 



60 HOW HE WAS SPOILED. 

topics for a while, (said the boy, who gives this 
history of himself,) my father asked me if I ob- 
served that great shadow, thrown by a huge mass of 
rock that stood in the middle of the field. I replied 
that I did. "My father owned that land," said he ; 
"it was my playground when a boy. The rock 
stood there then ; to me it is a beacon, and, when- 
ever I look at it, I recall a dark spot in my life, — 
an event so painful to dwell upon, that, were it not 
as a warning to you, I should not speak of it. 
Listen, then, my dear boy, and learn wisdom from 
your father's experience. 

" My father died when I was a mere child. I was 
the only son. My mother was a gentle, loving wo- 
man, devoted to her children, and beloved by every- 
body. 

"I remember her pale, beautiful face, her sweet, 
affectionate smile, her kind and gentle voice. In 
my childhood I loved her sincerely. I was never 
happy apart from her ; and she, fearing that I was 
becoming too much of a child, sent me to a high- 
school in the village. 

"After associating for a time with rude, rough boys, 
I lost, in a measure, my fondness for home, and my 
reverence for my mother ; and it became more and 
more difficult for her to restrain my impetuous na- 
ture. I thought it indicated a want of manliness to 
yield to her control, or to appear penitent, although 
I knew that my conduct pained her. 

" The epithet I most feared was girl-boy. I could 
not bear to hear it said, by my playmates, that I was 
'tied to my mother's apron-strings.' 



THE PAINFUL MEMORY. 61 

"From a quiet, home-loving child, I became a 
wild, boisterous boy. 

" My mother was very anxious to induce me to 
seek happiness within the precincts of home. She 
exerted herself to make our fireside attractive ; and 
my sister, following her self-sacrificing example, 
sought to entice me, by planning games, and diver- 
sions, for my amusement and entertainment. I saw 
all this, but did not heed it, until it was too late. 

" It was on an afternoon like this, as I was about 
leaving the dining-table to spend the intermission 
between morning and evening school, in the street, 
as usual, my mother laid her hand on my shoulder 
and said, mildly, but firmly, ' My son, I wish you to 
come with me.' 

"I would have rebelled, but something in her 
manner awed me. 

"She put on her bonnet and said to me, 'We will 
take a little walk together.' I followed her in 
silence, and, as I was passing out of the door, I ob- 
served one of my rude companions, skulking about 
the house, and I knew he was waiting for me. He 
sneered as I passed by him. My pride was wounded 
to the quick. He was a very bad boy, and, being 
some years older than myself, he exercised a great 
influence over me. 

"I followed my mother, sulkily, till we reached 
the spot where we now stand, beneath the shadow 
of this huge rock. 

" Oh, my boy, could that hour be blotted from my 

memory, which has cast a dark shadow over my 

whole life, gladly would I exchange all that the 

6 



62 REBELLION CHERISHED. 

world can offer me for the quiet peace of mind I 
should enjoy! But no! Like this huge, unsightly 
pile, stands the monument of my guilt forever. 

" My mother, being in feeble health, sat down, and 
beckoned me to sit down beside her. Her look, so 
full of tender sorrow, is present to me now. 

" I would not sit, but still continued standing be- 
side her. 

'" Alfred, my dear son,' she said, 'have you lost 
all your love for your mother V 

"I did not reply. 

'"I fear you have/ she continued; 'and may God 
help you to see your own heart, and me to do my 
duty!' 

" She then talked to me of my misdeeds, — of the 
dreadful consequences of the course I was pursuing. 
By tears, and entreaties, and prayers, she tried to 
make an impression upon me. She placed before 
me the lives and examples of great and good men. 
She sought to stimulate my ambition. 

" I was moved, but too proud to show it, and re- 
mained standing in dogged silence beside her. I 
thought, What will my companions say if, after all 
my boasting, I should yield at last, and submit to 
be led by a woman ? 

" What agony was in my mother's face when she 
saw that all she had said, and suffered, failed to 
move me ! 

" She rose to go home, and I followed at a dis- 
tance. She spoke no more to me until we reached 
our own door. 

44 'It is school-time now,' she said; 'go, my son, 



REBELLION ACTED OUT. 63 

and once more let me beseech you to think upon 
what I have said.' 

"'I sha'n't go to school,' said I. 

" She looked astonished at my boldness, but re- 
plied, firmly, — 

"' Certainly you will go, Alfred; I command 
you/ 

" 'I will not/ said I, with a tone of defiance. 

" ' One of two things you must do, Alfred. Either 
go to school this moment, or I will lock you up in 
your room, and keep you there until you are ready 
to promise obedience to my wishes.' 

"'I dare you to do it/ said I; 'you can't get me 
up-stairs.' 

"'Alfred, choose, now,' said my mother, who laid 
her hand on my arm. She trembled violently, and 
was deadly pale. 

"'If you touch me, I will kick you!' said I, in a 
terrible rage. 

'"Will you go, Alfred?' 

"'No,' replied I, but quailed beneath her glance. 

"'Then follow me,' said she, as she grasped my 
arm firmly. 

"I raised my foot — oh, my boy, hear me! — 
I raised my foot, and kicked her, — my sainted 
mother ! 

"Oh, my head reels as the torrent of memory 
rushes over me ! I kicked my mother, — a feeble 
woman, — my mother ! 

" She staggered back a few steps, and leaned 
against the wall. She did not look at me. I saw 
her heart beat against her breast. 



64 THE INWARD STRUGGLE. 

"'Oh, heavenly Father/ she cried, ' forgive him! 
he knows not what he does !' 

"The gardener just then passing the door, and 
seeing my mother pale, and almost unable to sup- 
port herself, he stopped. She beckoned him in. 

" ' Take this boy up-stairs, and lock him in his 
own room,' she said, and turned from me. 

"Looking back as she was entering her own 
room, she gave me such a look ! — it will forever fol- 
low me. It was a look of agony, mingled with the 
deepest love. It was the last unutterable pang from 
a heart that was broken. 

" In a moment I found myself a prisoner, in my 
own room. I thought, for a moment, I would fling 
myself out of the window and dash my brains out ; 
but I felt afraid to die. I was not penitent. At 
times my heart was subdued, but my stubborn pride 
rose in an instant and bade me not to yield. The 
pale face of my mother haunted me. I flung my- 
self on my bed and fell asleep. I awoke at mid- 
night, suffering with the damp night-air, and terri- 
fied with frightful dreams. I would have sought my 
mother at that moment, for I trembled with fear; 
but my door was fast. 

"With the daylight my terrors were dissipated, 
and I became bold in resisting all good impulses. 
The servant brought my meals, but I did not taste 
them. I thought the day would never end. 

"Just at twilight I heard a light footstep ap- 
proach the door. It was my sister, who called me 
by name. 

" ' What may I tell mother for you V she asked. 



THE STRUGGLE CONTINUED. 65 

"'Nothing/ I replied. 

" ' Oh, Alfred, for my sake, and for all our sakes, 
say that yon are sorry; she longs to forgive you/ 

"'I won't be driven to school against my will/ I 
replied. 

"'But you will go if mother wishes it, dear 
Alfred?' my sister said, pleadingly. 

"'No, I won't,' said I; 'and you needn't say an- 
other word about it.' 

'"Oh, brother, you will kill her! you will kill 
her! and then, you can never have a happy mo- 
ment !' 

"I made no reply to this. My feelings were 
touched, but I still resisted their influence. My 
sister called me, but I would not answer. I heard 
her footsteps slowly retreating, and again I flung 
myself upon my bed, and passed another wretched 
and fearful night. Oh, God, how wretched — how 
fearful — I did not know ! 

"Another footstep, slower and feebler than my 
sister's, disturbed me. A voice called my name. It 
was my mother's. 

'"Alfred, my son, shall I come in? Are you 
sorry for what you have done ?' she asked. 

" I cannot tell what influence, operating at that 
time, made me speak adverse -to my feelings. 

"The gentle voice of my mother, that thrilled 
through me, melted the ice from my obdurate heart, 
and I longed to throw myself upon her neck ; but I 
did not. No, my boy, I did not! But my words 
gave the lie to my heart, when I said I was not 
sorry. 

6* 



66 THE MURDERED MOTHER. 

"I heard her withdraw. I heard her groan. I 
longed to call her back, but I did not. 

"I was awakened, from an uneasy slumber, by 
hearing my name called loudly, and my sister stood 
by my bedside. 

" ' Get up, Alfred ; oh, do not wait a moment ! 
Get up and come with me ; mother is dying !' 

"I thought I was dreaming, but I got up me- 
chanically, and followed my sister. 

"On the bed, pale and cold as marble, lay my 
mother. She had not undressed. She had thrown 
herself on the bed to rest. Rising to go again to 
me, she was seized with a palpitation of the heart, 
and borne senseless to her room. 

" I cannot tell you my agony, as I looked upon 
her. My remorse was tenfold more bitter from the 
thought that she would never know it. I believed 
myself to be a murderer. I fell on the bed beside 
her. I could not weep. My heart burned in my 
bosom ; my brain was all on fire. My sister threw 
her arms around me and wept in silence. Suddenly, 
we saw a slight motion of mother's hand. Her eyes 
unclosed. She had recovered consciousness, but not 
speech. She looked at me, and moved her lips ; I 
could not understand her words. 

" ' My mother/ I shrieked, ' say only that you for- 
give me!' 

9 She could not say it with her lips, but her hands 
pressed mine. She smiled upon me ; and, lifting 
her thin white hands, clasped my own within them, 
and cast her eyes upward. She moved her lips in 
prayer, and thus she died. 



WHAT THE STORY TEACHES. 67 

"I remained still kneeling before that dear form 
till my gentle sister removed me. She comforted 
me, for she knew the heavy load of sorrow at my 
heart, — heavier than grief at the loss of a mother, 
for it was a load of sorrow for sin. 

" The joy of youth had left me forever.' ' 

My father ceased speaking, and buried his face 
in his hands. He saw, and felt the bearing of his 
narrative upon my character and conduct. 

I have never forgotten it ; and I would say to boys 
who spurn a mother's control, who are ashamed to 
own that they are wrong, who think it manly to 
resist her authority, or to yield to her influence : — 
" Beware ! Lay not up for yourselves bitter memo- 
ries for your future years." 

That was a Ben-oni indeed, — a child of sorrow to 
his parent, to his sister, and to all around him. His 
disobedience made him such. 

Let us look, now, at one or two examples of an 
opposite character. 

William Hale was an obedient son. He was 
spending some time with his mother at the Saratoga 
Springs, and had become acquainted with a number 
of boys of his own age there. 

One day some half-dozen of the children were 
playing on the piazza, and one of them was heard 
exclaiming, — 

" Oh, yes, that's capital ! So we will ; come on, 
now ! Where's William Hale ? Come on, Will ! We 
are going to have a ride on the circular railroad. 
Come with us." 



68 AN EXAMPLE OF TRUE COURAGE. 

"Yes, if my mother is willing/' said William. 
"I will run and ask her." 

"Ah, ah! so you must run and ask your ma! — 
great baby-boy ! — run along to your ma ! Ain't you 
ashamed ?" 

"I don't ask my mother," said one. 

"Neither do I," said another. 

"Neither do I," said a third. 

"Be a man, Will, and come along," said the first 
boy, "if you don't wish to be called a coward as 
long as you live ; don't you see we are all waiting ?" 

William was standing, with one foot advanced 
and his hand firmly clenched, in the midst of the 
group. His brow was flushed, his eye was flashing, 
his lip was compressed, his cheek was changing — 
all showing how the epithet, "coward," rankled in 
his bosom. 

It was doubtful for a moment whether he would 
have the true bravery to be called a coward rather 
than to do wrong ; but, with a voice trembling with 
emotion, he replied, — 

"I will not go without I ask my mother; and I 
am no coward, either. I promised her I would not 
go from the house without her permission ; and I 
should be a base coward if I were to tell my mother 
a lie." 

When William returned to his mother, to ask her 
permission to go, and told her of what had taken 
place, she threw her arms around his neck and 
exclaimed, — 

"God bless you, my dear child, and give you 
grace always to act in this way." 



THE SECRET OF WASHINGTON'S GREATNESS. 69 

Ah, my dear children, he was a Benjamin — a child 
of comfort — to his dear mother; and doubtless he 
grew up to be her support, and comfort all his 
days. 

After the surrender of Cornwallis, and the victory 
achieved by the American arms, George Washing- 
ton, when the war was over, returned in triumph to 
his mother's home. Everybody was honoring him, 
and praising him, as the saviour of his country, and 
the greatest man of the age. When he reached the 
place of his mother's abode, a large concourse of 
the people had met, to greet him, and welcome him 
to his home. In the centre of the assembled crowd 
stood his mother; and, pushing his way through 
the crowd around him, he hastened to pay her his 
respects; and, as she threw her arms around his 
neck, and kissed him, she said to some who were 
congratulating her upon having so noble a son, — 

" George always was an obedient child/' 

He was indeed a Benjamin — a son of comfort — to 
his mother, and a blessing to the country, and to 
the world; and the spirit of obedience, early learned, 
and early practised, was that which went to make 
him what he was. 

And now, in conclusion, my dear children, let me 
ask you, Which, of these two, do you desire to be ? 
Will you be Ben-onies — children of sorrow and grief 
— to your parents ? or, will you be Benjamins — chil- 
dren of joy, and comfort, and blessing — to them? 
If you would be the latter, — Benjamins indeed, — 
then you must watch, and strive, and pray against 
all the evils of which we have been speaking. 



70 FOUR THINGS TO WATCH AGAINST. 

"Watch against these four marks of a Ben-oni: — 
watch against ill-temper, watch against idleness, watch 
against pride, watch against disobedience; and pray 
God to enable you each to overcome all these evils, 
— to erase these marks of a Ben-oni as they are be- 
ginning to fasten themselves on your character, and 
to earn for yourself the character of a Benjamin 
indeed. 



THE CROOKED THINGS STRAIGHTENED. 

Ecclesiastes i. 15 : That which is crooked cannot be made 

straight. 

This does not mean that no crooked thing can 
ever be straightened, for we all know, very well, that 
this is not true. It is easy enough to straighten some 
crooked things. Here, for instance, is a piece of 
paper. I can take it in my hand, and squeeze and 
crumple it all up, till there is not one straight piece 
in it, as big as your little-finger nail. And then I 
can spread it out on the table, and smooth it down, 
and make it just as straight again as ever it was. 
Or here is a piece of dough, or a bit of clay. I can 
roll it out, and twist it round, till it is as crooked as 
a ram's horn. Now, if I put it into the oven, and 
bake it, while it is in this state, why, then our text 
will apply to it, and "that which is crooked cannot 
be made straight." But before it gets thus hard- 
ened, I can take and roll it out, between the palms 
of my hands, and make it as smooth, and straight as 
I want it to be. And just so if I take a tender wil- 
low-twig, I can wind it round my finger like a 
thread ; then I can unwind it again, and it will 
come out as straight as ever. But let that willow- 
twig remain crooked, while it is growing, for five or 
ten years, and then you may write on it the words 

of our text; for "that which is crooked cannot be 

71 



72 ALL BORN WITH CROOKED HEARTS. 

made straight.' ' Now, God compares himself, in the 
Bible, to a potter, and his people to clay. God com- 
pares himself to a gardener, and his people to plants 
or trees, which he has planted. And as it is true of 
clay and of trees, that if yon begin at the right time, 
and take proper pains, you can straighten what is 
crooked in them, so it is true of boys and girls. 
And as it is true of clay, and trees, that if you let 
the one get baked, or the other grow old, while it is 
crooked, you cannot straighten it, just so it is true 
of boys and girls. How very important, then, it is, 
for us to know what there is crooked about our- 
selves, and how we may get it straightened ! I have 
chosen this text on purpose to help us understand 
this matter. And there sue four things which I wish 
especially to show you, while talking about these 
words of Solomon. 

The first thing I wish to show is, that we are all bom 
with crooked hearts. 

What sort of hearts are we born with ? Crooked 
hearts. But some of you may be ready to ask, 
Well, what sort of a heart is a crooked heart ? Why, 
a crooked heart is a wicked or sinful heart. I say, 
then, we are all born with sinful or wicked hearts. 
Now, a great many people don't believe this; but it 
is just as true as that two and two make four. I 
can prove this to you, my dear children, in two 
ways. I can prove it from the Bible, and then I can 
prove it without the Bible. 

Now, I might point you to a good many places in 
the Bible which prove that we are born with sinful 
hearts; but I will only point you to two. In the 



BIBLE-PROOFS OF CROOKED HEARTS. 73 

fifty-first Psalm and fifth verse, David tells us that he 
was born a sinner. But David was born just as you 
and I, and all of us were. His heart or nature, was 
just the same, at his birth, as ours is. And if some 
of you think that, perhaps, David was born with a 
heart more crooked, or sinful than other people, and 
that, perhaps, some children are born with a heart 
that is not at all sinful, I can show you, from another 
passage of Scripture, that this is not the case. The 
apostle Paul tells us in Ephesians, second chapter, 
and third verse, that "we are all, by nature, the chil- 
dren of wrath." Now, when he tells us here, what we 
are " by nature" he means what we are at the time 
we are born. And when he says we are " the chil- 
dren of wrath," he means that we are born children 
with whom God is angry. But God is never angry 
with people for any thing but for sin. And if God is 
angry with us when we are born, then it is very cer- 
tain that we must be born sinners. This is enough, 
then, to prove, from the Bible, that we are all born 
with crooked, sinful hearts. 

But, then, I said we can prove this without the 
Bible; and so we can. Now, there are two things, 
about children, which show that they are born with 
crooked, sinful hearts, even if the Bible had never 
said any thing about it. The sufferings, and death of 
children prove it ; and the way in which children grow 
up proves it. 

See ; here is a cradle with a dear little infant in it, 
fast asleep. Look at its little dimpled chin, its rosy, 
rounded cheeks, its ruby lips, and golden locks. 

How sweet, how beautiful, how like a little cherub 

7 



74 PROOFS WITHOUT THE BIBLE. 

it seems ! As we stand and gaze upon it, admiring 
its loveliness, and feeling tempted to stoop down 
and kiss the little darling, we are tempted to ask 
ourselves, Can there be any thing crooked or sinful 
in this sweet, sleeping child ? But see ; while we 
are looking at it, a change passes over the smiling 
face of the baby. An expression of pain appears 
upon it. It starts up with a sharp, piercing cry. It 
rolls about in agony. Its screams fill the house. 
Convulsions have taken it. Nothing that its anxious 
mother can do affords it any relief. It struggles, for 
a few short hours, with the painful disease, and then 
it dies. But suffering, and death never come where 
there is no sin. Do the angels in heaven ever get 
sick ? Oh, no. Did an angel ever die ? No. Are 
there any graveyards in heaven ? None at all, But 
why not ? Why is there no sickness, or suffering, 
or death, among the angels ? Because there is no- 
thing crooked, nothing sinful, about them. And 
why do infants sicken, and suffer, and die ? Because 
they are born with crooked, sinful hearts. Yes, my 
dear children, every time you hear an infant cry, 
you hear an argument which proves that we are all 
born sinners. Every time you see an infant's cof- 
fin, an infant's funeral, or an infant's grave, you see 
a certain proof, that we are all born sinners. The 
sufferings, and death of children prove it, without 
the Bible. 

And then the way in which children grow up proves it 
also. All children grow up to be bad, if they are 
left to themselves. Since the world began, there 
never was a child born, and left to grow up as it 



TREES KNOWN BY THEIR FRUITS. 75 

pleased, that grew up to love and serve God. Now, 
this proves something or other, and it is very easy 
to tell what it proves. If you go into a garden and 
see the sweet-smelling mignionette growling around 
one of the beds, what kind of seed, do you know, 
must have been sowed there? Mignionette-seed. 
If you pluck a sweet, juicy apple from a tree, what 
sort of a tree must it be, from which you plucked it? 
A sweet apple-tree. If you pluck an apple from 
another tree, and find it to be a sour, crab-apple, 
what kind of a tree must that be, on which it grew ? 
A crab-apple-tree. How do you know this ? By its 
fruit. Do apples, or peaches ever grow on thorn- 
bushes ? No. If the berries that grow upon a cer- 
tain bush, or the fruit on a certain tree, are always 
poisonous, what sort of a bush, or tree must that 
be? Poisonous. Now, our actions may be com- 
pared to fruit, and our hearts to the trees, on which 
they grow. And if we find that, in all countries and 
in all ages, children, left to themselves, grow up only 
to bear evil fruit, — the fruit of opposition to Q-od's 
law, and hatred to God's character, — what must their 
hearts be, which bring forth these wicked fruits ? 
They must be wicked hearts. For as the tree is 
known by its fruit, so is the heart known by the 
actions which it leads men to perform. And, in 
this way, we can prove, both from the Bible, and 
without the Bible, that we are all born with crooked 
or sinful hearts. 

This is the first of the four things I wish to show 
you, while talking about our text. 

And now we come to the second of these things. 



76 DIFFERENT KIND OF SCHOOLS. 

It is this : — that, like the tree, or the clay, our hearts are 
having something done to them, which will make it much 
harder to straighten what is crooked in them. With the 
tree, it is its growth that will make its crookedness 
hard to straighten. With the clay, it is the baking, 
or burning of it. With ourselves, it is the exercis- 
ing or practising of what is sinful, in our hearts, that 
will make it hard to straighten them. There is a 
kind of education for our hearts to go through. 
When we are acquiring learning, of any kind, we 
call it getting an education. And the places where 
we learn things we call schools. And there are a 
great many different kinds of schools. There are 
the common schools, where we learn the things ne- 
cessary to make us useful in life. And there are 
medical schools, where young men go to learn to 
become doctors ; and law schools, where they learn 
to become lawyers ; and divinity schools, where they 
learn to become ministers. And then the shops, in 
which the mechanics learn their trades, are a kind 
of school. The carpenter's shop is a school to him; 
and so is the blacksmith's shop, and the tailor's 
shop, a school. Wherever we learn to think, or say, 
or do any thing, that is a school to us. jNow, a 
great many children never go to school anywhere 
but on the playground, and at the corners of the 
streets. There they learn to do wicked things. All 
that is crooked in their hearts becomes fixed in their 
crookedness. There, the crooked parts of their na- 
ture get educated. There, the little twigs of evil, in 
them, grow into great, strong limbs, that nobody can 
bend. There, the clay of their nature gets baked, 



THE CROOKED TREE. 77 

and hardened, before it is straightened. The habits 
we form, and the characters we acquire, while we are 
young, will remain with us, when we grow up to be 
men and women. And so the habits, and characters, 
we form in this world, will remain with us after 
death, in the world which we must enter then. 
This world is God's school. All the time spent in 
it is time spent at school. We are getting educated, 
here, for eternity. And when we form a wrong habit 
of .thinking, or feeling, or acting, we are hardening 
a crooked point, and fastening it upon our charac- 
ters. And when we go out of the school of life, — 
that is, when we come to die, and go into eternity, — 
then it will be true that, "that which is crooked 
cannot be made straight." If the potter is making 
a pitcher, and finds that the handle, or side of it, has 
got out of shape, and crooked, he can very easily 
alter it, and make it straight again, if he only finds 
it out before it has been put into the oven, and 
baked. But, if he does not see it till after it comes 
out of the oven, then, there is no help for it. How- 
ever strangely out of shape, it may be, it must re- 
main so. Then, he knows that, "that which is 
crooked cannot be made straight." And so it is 
with the gardener, and his trees. "While they are 
young, and tender, it is very easy to straighten them, 
when they get crooked. But, let them only grow 
crooked, and then what can he do with them ? One 
of the crookedest trees, I ever saw, stands in Spruce 
Street, just below Fifth Street, on the north side, 
opposite the Baptist church. If you have never no- 
ticed it, it is quite worth while to go by that way, on 

7* 



78 THE GARDENER STRAIGHTENING HIS TWIGS. 

purpose to take a look at it. Its brandies grow east, 
and west, and north, and south, and up, and down, 
and in every possible direction. Yet, there was a 
time when all those crooked-looking branches might 
have been unbended, and made to grow, almost, as 
straight as a yardstick. But who can make them 
so now ? All the people in the world could not do 
it. They might cut the tree down, and break its 
branches in pieces, but that is all they could do. A 
tree like that shows us, exactly, what Solomon meant 
when he said, "That which is crooked cannot be 
made straight. " 

And now, we come to the third thing, we wish to speak 
of, in connection with our text ; and that is, the importance 
of keeping straight, while we are getting educated. Did 
you ever know a person who had charge of a nursery 
of young trees ? If you did, you might learn some 
very useful lessons from his example. The great 
object, with him, is to keep his trees in proper shape, 
while they are growing. He walks about among 
them, very often, and watches them closely. If he 
sees one getting crooked, he tries to straighten it. 
If merely bending it, with his hands, will not keep 
it straight, then he puts a stake in the ground, and 
ties the young tree to it, so as to keep it in a right 
position, all the time it is growing. And if the gar- 
dener thinks it worth his while to take so much 
care, and pains with the education of a mere tree, 
which, after all, will only last for a few years, how 
much more careful should we be in educating our 
souls, which are to live forever and ever ! 

Did you ever go to a daguerreotype-office, to have 



THE DAGUERREOTYPE-OFFICE. 79 

your likeness fkken ? If you did, you remember 
how very careful the person, who took your likeness, 
was to have you seated properly, before he began 
to take it. He lifted your head up, he set your 
shoulders back, he altered the position of your 
hands, three or four times, perhaps, before he could 
get it to suit. He set a swinging ball in motion, for 
you to look at, so as to have your eyes right ; and 
when every thing was arranged just to suit him, he 
said, " There, now; keep just so, for a little while, 
and we'll get a nice picture. ,, Suppose, now, you 
had shut one eye, just at that moment, and kept it 
shut, for two or three minutes : what then ? Why, 
you would have had the likeness of a one-eyed boy 
or girl. Or suppose you had twisted your face, or 
screwed up your mouth : why, you would have had a 
picture of yourself w^ith a screwed-up mouth, or a 
twisted face. Nothing in the world could prevent 
it. Now, my dear children, this world is God's 
daguerreotype-office ; and we are all staying here 
to have our likeness taken. While we are young 
the likeness is being taken, of what we are to be as 
men and women. And all the time we are living 
here, the likeness is being taken of what we shall be, 
hereafter, forever. When we become men and wo- 
men, we may, by great efforts, alter the picture that 
was made of ourselves in youth. But, when we 
come to die, the picture that has been taken of us 
can never, never be altered. However crooked, or 
awkward, or ugly, our features may be, they must 
remain, just as they are. Oh, this is a most import- 
ant thing to know. And it is a very solemn thing 



80 the soul's daguerreotype. 

to think about. Every day we live, our likeness is 
being taken for eternity. Let us try to remember 
this, every morning, when we rise from our beds. 
Let us think to ourselves, "I am having my like- 
ness taken for eternity to-day, and I must strive to 
have a good likeness." And when we are tempted 
to do any thing that is wrong, let us stop and ask 
ourselves the question, How will this look in that 
picture of me, which must last forever ? And it is 
not only our words, and actions, but our thoughts, 
and feelings, which will appear in these likenesses. 
Almost every feeling we indulge, in our hearts, will 
have its effect upon the countenance. "When a per- 
son is very angry you can tell it, in a minute, from 
the look of his face. The cheeks flash up, and grow 
as red as a coal ; and the eyes glare, and flash like 
the eyes of a tiger. A face all inflamed with anger 
would make a very disagreeable picture, to look at. 
And selfishness, fretfulness, un kindness, and mean- 
ness, will show themselves, in the face, just as plainly 
as anger does. And they are just as disagreeable, to 
look at, too. And if we indulge these, or any other 
wrong feelings, in our hearts or lives, we shall fix 
the expression of them in the likeness, now being 
made, of what we are to be forever. Whenever we 
are tempted to give way to these wrong feelings, let 
us say to ourselves, u No ; this will spoil our picture 
for eternity ; this will make a crooked feature, in it, 
that will never be made straight. Our likeness is 
being taken, now, for eternity. Oh, how important, 
it is, that we should keep straight, till it is done !" 
There is only one other point, I would speak upon, 



THE WAY TO GET THE HEART STRAIGHTENED. 81 

in connection with our present text, and that is 
this : — How can we get straight, and keep straight, till 
our likeness is finished ? 

Now, how are we to get straight? This is the 
most important question we can ever have to think 
about. Remember, we are not straight, to begin 
with. Recollect, that, the first of our four points 
was, to show that, we are all born with crooked, or 
sinful hearts. They must be made straight, before 
they can be kept straight. How, then, can a crooked, 
sinful heart be made straight or good ? We must 
take it to Jesus, and pray for him to take away all 
that is wicked in it. Jesus is able to do this. But 
no one else, besides him, can do it for us. When 
David, the king of Israel, was mourning over his 
own heart, because it was so dreadfully crooked and 
sinful, this was just what he did, to get a new heart. 
He kneeled down, and prayed most earnestly to his 
Saviour to do for him this very thing, that we are 
now speaking of. Would you like to know what he 
said in his prayer ? You can read it all in the fifty- 
first Psalm. It is a beautiful prayer, and one which 
we may use, for ourselves. In the tenth verse of the 
Psalm, he says, "Create in me a clean heart, O 
God; and renew a right spirit within me." That 
is the way, and the only way in the world, to get a 
crooked heart made straight. Jesus is just as will- 
ing to hear such a prayer, from a little child, now, as 
he was to hear it from King David, three thousand 
years ago, if it is offered, as earnestly, as David 
offered it. And he is just as able to answer it now, 
as he was then. He is called Jesus for this very 



82 HOW TO KEEP THE HEART STRAIGHT. 

reason, because he saves his people from their sins. 
And he does this by making new hearts in them. 

In one of the hymns, we sometimes sing, is this 
verse : — 

" Can aught beneath a power divine, 
The stubborn will subdue ? 
'Tis thine, Almighty Saviour, thine 
To form the heart anew." 

This, then, is the way to get a crooked heart 
made straight. It is to take it to Jesus in prayer, 
and ask him to do it for you. Every one of us may 
do this for himself. Every child, who feels his heart 
to be crooked, may bring it to Jesus to be made 
new, just as well as the greatest king, or the most 
learned minister on earth. Jesus said, " Suffer little 
children to come unto me." And there is nothing 
for which he so loves to have them come to him, 
as to bring 'their crooked hearts, to get them 
straightened. 

But when our hearts are made straight, how are 
we to keep them straight f Two things are necessary 
for this : — we must get Jesus to help us, and toe must 
help ourselves. We must get Jesus to help us. With- 
out his help we can do nothing at all in this matter. 
In this work of cultivating our hearts, God deals 
with us, just as he does with the farmer, in cultivat- 
ing his fields. The farmer must have God's help, 
and he must help himself, or he will never succeed 
in raising his crops. He may plough his fields, and 
sow his seed; but if there were no sun to shine on 
it, and no rain to descend, or no dew to distil upon 
it, do you suppose that the seed would ever spring 



TWO KINDS OF HELP. 83 

up and grow? Never in the world. Now, this is 
the way in which God helps the farmer. But the 
farmer must help himself, by preparing the ground, 
and putting in the seed, at the right time, and in the 
right way. And if he neglect to do this, the sun 
may shine ever so brightly, and the rains may pour 
down ever so plenteously, but will there be any har- 
vest yielded ? Of course not. And just so it is in 
the work of straightening crooked hearts. We 
must have God to help us, and we must help our- 
selves. But how will God help us here ? By giving 
us his grace, and his Holy Spirit. These are just 
the kind of help to us, in trying to keep our hearts 
straight, that the sun and rain are to the farmer, in 
making his crops grow. But how are we to get this 
help from God ? By earnest prayer. God promises 
in his blessed word, to give his grace and his Spirit, 
and all that his people need, in answer to their 
prayers. He says, "Ask, and ye shall receive.' ' 
Jesus tells us that his Father is "more ready to give 
these good things to them that ask, than parents are 
to give bread to their children." If you want to 
keep your hearts straight, then, you must go to 
Jesus whenever you find any thing crooked in them, 
and beg him to take it away. Yet he will not help us, 
unless we help ourselves; and all our efforts will do 
no good unless we have his help. But if we have 
both, our work will be easy and pleasant, and effec- 
tual too. You remember the fable of the wagoner 
whose team was stalled in the mire. He felt that 
he never could get it out of himself; so he fell down 
on his knees, and began to call on his God to help 



84 THE STALLED WAGONER. 

him. But he was told to get up, and put his shoulder 
to the wheel, and whip his horses, and then call for 
help from heaven, and it should be granted to him. 
There is a great deal of truth in this fable. God 
only helps those who help themselves. He does so 
in reference to the body, and the things of this 
world, and he does just the same in reference to the 
soul, and the things of the world to come. Begin at 
once, then, my dear children, to find out all that is 
crooked in your hearts ; and as fast as you find these 
crooked things out, take them to Jesus, and pray 
him to make them straight. And when they are 
made straight, seek his help, and help yourselves, to 
keep them straight. This is the Bible way of 
straightening crooked hearts. This is the way, the 
only way, of reaching heaven, — that glorious, happy 
place, where nothing crooked ever enters. May 
God help us all to walk in this good way now, and 
may he bring us safe to that blessed place at last, 
for Jesus' sake ! Amen, 



THE GREAT MAN IN GOD'S SIGHT. 

Luke i. 15 : He shall he great in the sight of the Lord. 

If yon had never heard these words before, my 
dear children, I suppose yon wonld be ready, as 
soon as yon heard them, to ask, "Who can this 
mean ? Does it refer to some mighty king, or con- 
queror ? Is it David, who killed the giant ? or Da- 
niel, who was thrown into the lion's den ? Or is it 
some great soldier, like Alexander, or Jnlins Csesar, 
or Napoleon, that is intended?" No; it is none of 
these. It is nobody like them, that is spoken of 
here. Onr text refers to John the Baptist. And 
who was John the Baptist ? He was the son of a 
poor priest. He was very poor himself. He was 
born in a little village among the hills of Jndea. 
He lived in the wilderness, and was never heard 
of, out of his own family, till he grew to be thirty 
years old. Then he began to preach, in the neigh- 
borhood of Jerusalem. He continued his labors, as 
a preacher, for about twelve months. One day he 
preached a sermon which offended Herod, the king 
of Judea. Herod became very angry with him, and 
put him in prison. There he was kept for a while, 
and then he was beheaded. This was the history 
of John the Baptist. And yet, before his birth, the 
angel Gabriel was sent from heaven to tell the father 

8 85 



86 THE GREATNESS OF BIRTH — NAPOLEON'S SON. 

of John, that lie was to be a great man, in the sight 
of God. Perhaps some of yon are ready to say, 
« Why, this seems very strange ; we don't see any 
thing so very great, in the life of John the Baptist." 
I dare say a good many people have thought so. But 
we must bear in mind that there are two kinds of 
great men. Some are great in the sight of men, 
and others are great in the sight of God. There is 
a wonderful difference between these two kinds of 
greatness. Now, let us consider three questions. 

The first is: — What makes people great in the sight of 
men? 

The second is : — What makes people great in the sight 
of God? 

And the third is : — Why is it better to be great in God's 
sight, than in man's sight ? 

Our first question is: — What makes people great 
in the sight of men? Several things do this; but 
birth, or money, or talents, are the chief things which 
give this kind of greatness. Some people are con- 
sidered great, simply, on account of their birth. They 
happen to be born of parents who occupy a distin- 
guished place in society. We all heard, a great deal 
of talk, about the son that was born to Louis Napo- 
leon, the Emperor of France, last spring. For a 
long time, the newspapers were filled with accounts 
of the wonderful preparations that were made to 
celebrate his birth. He was to be called the King 
of Algiers. He was to be rocked in a silver cradle. 
When he was born, guns were fired, bonfires were 
kindled, illuminations were held, bells were rung, 
flags were waved, and all Paris, if not all France, 



THE GREATNESS OF MONEY — STEPHEN GIRARD. 87 

was in a perfect tumult of excitement. One might 
have supposed that that unconscious baby was really 
the greatest person ever born into this world. It 
was a great baby in the sight of men. And yet 
there was nothing but his birth, to make him great. 
No doubt, many a baby was born that same day, in 
humble life, perhaps in some garret, or hut, that will 
really be a great deal more useful, to the world, than 
that emperor's son. Greatness, in the sight of men, 
belongs to that child of a palace, but it is great- 
ness which owes its existence to nothing but his 
birth. 

But money is another thing on account of which 
persons are sometimes considered great in the sight 
of men. Everybody in Philadelphia, I suppose, has 
heard about Stephen Girard. When he was alive, 
he was the richest man in this city. He was the 
richest man in this country. He was one of the 
richest men in the world. He died without leaving 
any children. But suppose that Stephen Girard had 
had one only son. And suppose that, instead of 
leaving his property to the city of Philadelphia, he 
had left it all to this son. Fifteen millions of dollars 
to one man ; what a rich man he would have been ! 
How much attention would have been paid to that 
man ! How much he would have been honored, and 
sought after! He might have been an ignorant, 
stupid, bad man, and yet many persons would have 
considered him a great man, simply, on account of 
his money. It is a poor, mean, contemptible thing 
when a person's greatness grows out of his gold. 
Yet it often does so. Plenty of money is often 



88 THE GREATNESS OF TALENT. 

enough to make people be considered great in the 
sight of men. 

But, there is another thing on which this kind of 
greatness rests, the most frequently of all, and that 
is talent. By this is meant smartness, or power of 
mind to do things that other people cannot do, or 
else to do them better, than others can. Here are 
two little boys, John and "William. They both go 
to the same school, at the same time, and they are 
both put into the ABC class. John learns the 
alphabet in three lessons ; but William has to go 
over his, again, and again, day after day, and week 
after week, for three months, before he knows it. 
We should say that John had a talent for learning, 
while William had not. Now, this talent, or power 
of mind to do things, assumes many different forms, 
and shows itself in many different ways. Some- 
times, a man's talent will show itself, in a remark- 
able power to learn languages, as in the case of Sir 
William Jones. This man learned to read, and 
write, twenty-eight different languages. He became 
one of the most learned men of the age, in which he 
lived. His talents made him a great man, in the 
sight of men. And so it was with Dr. Carey, the 
Baptist missionary to India. When a young man, 
he was a shoemaker. But his heart was full of the 
love of God, and he resolved to give himself up to 
the work of preaching the gospel, to the heathen. 
Some people ridiculed the idea of his becoming a 
minister. They made sport of him, and called him 
"the consecrated cobbler." But he paid no attention 
to their mockery. He gave himself up to the work 



EXAMPLES OP MEN OF TALENT. 89 

he had chosen. He had a remarkable talent for 
learning languages, and he lived to translate the 
Scriptures into the language of many of the East- 
ern nations, and thus became the means, as it were, 
of opening the kingdom of heaven to thousands, 
and thousands, of people who would never have 
heard of Jesus, and his salvation, but for him. Some- 
times a man's talents will lie in a power for paint- 
ing, as was the case with Benjamin West, the son 
of a plain Pennsylvania farmer, who became one of 
the most celebrated painters in the world. Some- 
times it will show itself in a power for writing 
beautiful poetry, as was the case w^ith John Milton, 
and Alexander Pope, who acquired a greatness, in 
the sight of men, that will last as long as the Eng- 
lish language continues to be read, in the world. 
Sometimes it will show itself in a power to find out 
curious things, about the stars, and other heavenly 
bodies, as in the case of Sir Isaac Newton, who saw 
an apple fall from a tree one day, and set to study- 
ing about it, and found out from it how it is that 
the stars move so regularly, and a great many other 
wonderful things which nobody else had ever known 
before, since the world was made. Sometimes this 
talent will show itself in a power to make curious 
machinery, as in the case of James Watts, who 
made the first steam-engine, or of Robert Fulton, 
who made the first steamboat. These persons will 
always be considered great, in the sight of men, on 
account of their talents. And sometimes, though 
very rarely, a man's talents will show itself in a 

power to do any thing, better than other people can 

8* 



90 GREATNESS IN GOD'S SIGHT. 

do it. This was the case with our great Washing- 
ton. He had a great talent for every thing he was 
called upon to do. He had a wonderful talent for 
beating the British, and a wonderful talent for ruling 
the Americans. He had great talent as a soldier, 
and great talent as a statesman, and great talent as 
a farmer, and, better than all, besides, he had great 
talent as a good citizen, and a good man. He was 
great in the sight of men, and great in the sight of 
God too. But these are the three chief things, that 
make persons great, in the sight of men. And this 
was the first question, we were to consider. 

And now we come to our second question, which is 
this : — What is it ivhich makes people great, in the sight 
of God? It is not any of the things which leads to 
greatness in men's sight. A person may be born of 
the greatest king that ever lived, and be as rich as 
Girard was, and have the talents of all the different 
great men that I have mentioned, and yet never be 
great at all in the sight of God. And then, on the 
other hand, a person may be born in a garret, or a 
cellar, and never have any money to call his own, 
and no talent at all to do any thing that men call 
great, and yet may be really great in the sight of 
the Lord. This was very much the case with John 
the Baptist. He had neither birth, nor money, nor 
talents, to make him what men would call great ; yet 
God called him a great man. What made him 
great ? And what will make others as great as he 
was ? Now, all, that need be said in answer to this 
question, is included in a single word. What an im- 
portant word it is, which leads to such an important 



THE SUN MAKES THE CLOUDS GLORIOUS. 91 

result ! This word is obedience. It was simply his 
obedience which led to all John's greatness. He did 
just what God wanted him to do. He did nothing 
else; and he did this all the time. God wanted 
John to stay in the wilderness, till he was thirty 
years old, and he stayed there. God wanted him to 
preach repentance, and he did it. God wanted him 
to tell Herod of his sin. Now, John knew that 
Herod was a wicked man, and that he would get 
very angry with him ; yet he went right on and did 
it. Herod put him in prison, and killed him, for it ; 
yet John was great in the sight of the Lord. He 
had nothing but his obedience to make him great. 

And if we obey God, as John did, it will make us 
great in his sight too. Jesus said to his disciples, 
"Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command 
you;" that is, if ye obey me. But Jesus is the 
almighty God. He rules, and governs more than 
ten thousand times ten thousand worlds. All the 
angels of heaven worship him. It is his smile which 
makes the happiness of heaven. Jesus is so very 
great himself, that it must make anybody great who 
is permitted to become his friend. You know, my 
dear children, how often, when evening comes, the 
setting sun will shine upon the clouds that are float- 
ing in the western sky, and make them look so 
bright, and beautiful, that you stand and gaze upon 
them, and feel as if you never should be tired of 
looking at them. Before the sun shines on them, 
those clouds look so dark, and black, that you have 
no pleasure in seeing them. They owe all their 
brightness and glory to the sun. And yet the glory 



92 JESUS MAKES HIS PEOPLE GREAT. 

which, the sun gives them is only in appearance, 
not in reality. Now, if the. sun had the power of 
making all the clouds he shines on, really be, what 
they seem to be, — if he could actually turn them into 
glorious, glittering gold, — he would then be doing 
for the clouds, just what Jesus does for all who obey 
him, and become his friends. He sheds his glory 
upon them, and makes them like himself. He not 
only makes them look great and glorious, but he 
makes them really- fo so. When David was think- 
ing about all God's goodness to him, he said, " Thy 
gentleness has made me great." All the greatness 
which people get in men's sight is little and empty; 
but it is vast, wonderful, substantial greatness which 
they get, who become great in the sight of God. 
And this is what we have Sunday-schools, and 
churches for. This is the end of all our teaching, 
and preaching. The object, we have in view in it 
all, is to persuade you to love and serve Jesus. It is 
to induce you to become the friends of Jesus. And 
if you do this, you will secure true greatness to your- 
selves. This will make you, like John the Baptist, — 
"great in the sight of the Lord." And this is a 
great deal better than being great in the sight of 
men. 

And now we come to our third and last question, which 
is : — Why is it better to be great in the sight of the Lord 
than in the sight of men ? 

We may answer this question by saying that it is 
so for three reasons. Greatness in God's sight is 
better than greatness in man's sight, because it is 
more useful. Great men in God's sight are more 



THE CHRISTIAN USEFUL BY HIS EXAMPLE. 93 

useful, than others, by their example. Now, the most 
useful thing that can be done to anybody is to make 
him a Christian. And whatever is the best help 
towards making any one a Christian, that is the 
most useful thing to him. But there is nothing like 
the influence of a Christian's example to help to 
make others Christians. And in this way, a real 
Christian is doing good to those about him, all the 
time. A man may be born of a prince, and be very 
rich, and very talented ; yet there is nothing in any 
of these things to make his example useful, in the 
way of which we are now speaking. But when any 
one is great in the sight of God, as John was, by 
obedience to his will, he is exerting an influence, all 
the time, which tends to make others obey him too ; 
and thus, such a person is more useful by his exam- 
ple, than those who are great in the sight of men. 

And then by his prayers, as well as by his exam- 
ple, such a person is more useful. Suppose a great 
king had a treasure-house, filled with all kinds of 
good things ; and suppose he should give the key of 
this treasure-house to one of his servants, and should 
tell him that he might open it whenever he pleased, 
and take out any thing that was necessary for his 
own happiness, or that of his friends. What a pri- 
vilege this would be ! How much good this person 
might do ! How very useful he might make him- 
self ! But this is just what God does to his people. 
He has a treasury in heaven, which contains every 
thing necessary to our happiness. Prayer is the key 
that unlocks this treasury. God puts this key into 
the hands of his people, and allows them to use it 



94 A CHRISTIAN USEFUL BY HIS PRAYER, AND EFFORTS. 

for themselves or others, as there may be occasion. 
As the hymn says, — 

"Prayer makes the darkened cloud withdraw; 
Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw ; 
Gives exercise to faith and love, 
Brings every blessing from above." 

The prayer of Abraham would have saved Sodom 
and Gomorrah, from being burnt up, if ten good 
people had been found there. The prayer of Moses 
saved the whole nation of Israel from destruction. 
The prayer of Elijah brought rain on the land, when 
there had been none for three years and six months. 
And a great many such instances may be found in 
the Bible. But every Christian loves to pray, and, 
by his prayers, he will be more useful than those can 
ever be who have not learned to pray. 

And then, those who love and serve God, and are 
great in his sight, are more useful than others by 
their efforts, as well as by their example and prayers. 
You remember, my dear children, w r hen Jesus was 
on earth, as soon as he called some of his disciples 
and they found out who he was, they went right 
away to tell their friends and relations, and tried to 
bring them to Jesus too. And just so it is now. As 
soon as a person becomes a real Christian, and finds 
out what a precious Saviour Jesus is, he will try to 
persuade others to love and serve him too. Hence, 
you will find such a person becoming a Sunday-school 
teacher, or a tract-distributer, or a Bible-reader, or 
a visitor of the sick. And these are among the 
most useful things that any one can do. The reason 
why they are so, is because they are means which 



THE CHRISTIAN'S GREATNESS MORE LASTING. 95 

God has appointed for saving souls from death ; and 
to save a soul, is the most useful thing in the world. 
If you, or I, could make a world, like this we live 
in, we should feel that we had clone some very great 
thing. Yet Jesus has told us, that one soul is worth 
more than a whole world. If we should be the 
means, therefore, of leading one person to love and 
serve Jesus, we really do more good than if we could 
make a world. This is one reason, then, why great- 
ness in God's sight is better than greatness in the 
sight of men. It is more useful. 

But it is so, again, because this greatness is more 
lasting, than the other. Greatness in man's sight — a 
greatness that connects itself with birth, or money, or 
talents merely — will soon pass away ; but greatness 
in God's sight — a greatness that connects itself with 
our being made good, and holy— will never pass away. 
The former, of these, is like having one's name writ- 
ten on the sand, upon the ocean's shore, where the next 
wave will wash it all away. The latter, is like hav- 
ing one's name chiseled in marble, so that it cannot 
easily be done away. One of these, is like the height 
which a person reaches who gets on stilts. He may 
stalk round, for a little while, high up above others ; 
but pretty soon he must lay aside his stilts, and then 
he comes down, as low as anybody. The other, is like 
the height of one who rises by actually growing tall. 
He will remain to-morrow, and next year, and always, 
just as tall as he may become to-day. One of these 
kinds of greatness is like a sky-rocket. It shoots up, 
suddenly, into the sky, with a great rush, and blaze, 
and then, just as suddenly, it goes out again, in total 



96 CHRISTIAN GREATNESS TO BE REACHED BY ALL. 

darkness. Its beauty fades, its brightness disap- 
pears, and the blackened stick, falling to the earth, 
is all that remains of it. The other, is like the star, 
which God has set in the heavens. It shines with 
a clear, calm, beautiful, steady light. It has been 
shining so, for ages past; it will be shining so, for 
ages to come. And this is just what God himself 
compares his people to, when he says, " They that 
be wise, shall shine as the brightness of the firma- 
ment, and they that turn many to righteousness, as 
the stars, forever and ever." Greatness in the sight 
of God is better than greatness in the sight of men, 
because it is more lasting. 

And then it is so, again, because it is within the reach 
of all. This is not true, of greatness in the sight of 
men, but it is true, of greatness in the sight of God. 
Can we all be borauof kings or princes ? No. Can 
we all become as rich as Girard was ? No. Can we 
all become great poets like Milton, or great painters 
like West, or great generals like Wellington, Napo- 
leon, or "Washington? No. But may we not all 
become great, in the sight of the Lord, as John the 
Baptist was ? Yes, we may. For it was the grace 
of God, which made him what he was, and the same 
grace will be given to us, if we seek it with all our 
hearts. It is spoken of as "the grace of God which 
bringeth salvation to all men." All may seek it. 
All may secure it, and all may be made great by it. 
There was a book published several years ago, which 
almost everybody read. The name of one of the prin- 
cipal characters described in the book was "Uncle 
Tom." He is represented as a negro slave in one of 



UNCLE TOM AND UNCLE BEN. 97 

our Southern States. He is described as a good man, 
and a great man, although but a poor slave. Some 
people think there never was such a character, among 
the slaves. But, I dare say, a great many such could 
be found among them. A clergyman who had spent 
many years in the West India islands, before slavery 
was abolished, gave me an account of such a one, 
whom he knew very well. He assured me it was 
strictly true. He said there was once an insurrec- 
tion, in one of those islands ; that is, that some had 
undertaken to put down the laws, and the magis- 
trates, and do just what they pleased. Among 
other things, they resolved to break up the religious 
meetings of the slaves, in that neighborhood. These 
meetings were conducted by an old slave, called 
Uncle Ben. He was a pious, excellent negro, who 
was respected, and loved, by all who knew him. He 
had learned to read, and was a sort of minister 
among the slaves, in that part of the island. The 
rioters went to the negroes' meeting-house, at the 
time of service, for the purpose of breaking it up. 
It happened that Uncle Ben was not there, that 
day. He was unwell ; and one of his friends was 
conducting the meeting. The rioters went in, and 
seized the leader of the service. They led him out 
of the meeting-house, and put him to death, without 
a moment's delay. They struck off the poor fel- 
low's head, and set it on a pole, and then went round 
to the different plantations, to terrify the poor ne- 
groes, by this bloody sight of the head of their pray- 
ing leader. In the course of their march, they came 

to Uncle Ben's cabin. They halted at the door, and 

9 



98 uncle ben's courage. 

sent some one to fetch him out. When he appeared, 
the leader of the mob pointed to the bleeding head 
on the pole, and asked, " Do you know that head, 
Uncle Ben?" " Yes, massa," says Ben ; "I knows 
him." "Well, Ben, that's what he's got for his 
praying. And if you don't stop praying, that's just 
what you'll get. The next time we catch you pray- 
ing, we'll do just the same with your head." 

While this was going on, a great number of the 
slaves had gathered round, who looked with intense 
interest on this scene. They were the fellow-slaves 
of Uncle Ben, and most of them members of his 
church. Ben gazed upon the head of his friend. 
Then he looked the leader of the mob full in the 
face, and said, "Massa, you mean dat?" " To-be- 
sure I do," said the man ; "and if you wish to keep 
your head upon your shoulders, you'll give up pray- 
ing at once." Ben turned to his fellow-slaves in a 
moment, and said, "Bredren, let us pray." Then he 
kneeled down, in the presence of those fierce, law- 
less men, and poured out his soul in prayer. He 
prayed that God would pardon their sin, and show 
them the evil of their ways, and change their hearts, 
by his grace. He prayed that God would give him, 
and his fellow-slaves, grace to be faithful to their 
Christian profession, and never, by any threats, or 
dangers, to be turned away from their duty to him. 
When he ceased, he rose up and went into his cabin. 
God's power was on the hearts of those rioters, so 
that they went away, without offering to touch him. 
Uncle Ben was a great man, although he was but a 
slave. 



HONEST JOHN. MAYNARD. 99 

Now, look at another instance. A steamboat is 
making her way through the sparkling waters of 
Lake Erie. The pilot, at the wheel, is old John May- 
nard. He is a bluff, weather-beaten sailor, tanned 
by many a burning summer's sun, and many a win- 
try tempest. From one end of the lake to the 
other, he is known by the name of "honest John 
Maynard;" and the secret of his honesty, to his 
neighbors, is his love to God. 

The land is about ten miles off, when the captain, 
coming up from his cabin, cries to a sailor, — 

" What's all that smoke there, coming out of the 
hold?" 

"It's from the engine-room, I guess," said the 
man. 

"Down with you, then, and let me know." 

The sailor disappeared for a moment, beneath, and 
then returned, much faster than he went, and ex- 
claimed, "The hold's on fire, sir!" 

The captain rushed down, and found the account 
too true. Some sparks had fallen on a bundle of 
tow. ISTo one had seen the accident ; and now, not 
only much of the baggage, but also the sides of the 
vessel, were in a smouldering flame. 

All hands, passengers as well as sailors, were 
called together, and, two lines being formed, one on 
each side of the hold, buckets of water were passed, 
and repassed. Filled from the lake, they flew along 
the line of ready hands, were dashed hissing on the 
burning mass, and then passed, on the other side, to 
be refilled. It seemed, for a few moments, as if the 
flames were subdued. 



100 THE BURNING STEAMBOAT. 

"How's her head?" shouted the captain. 

" West-sou'west, sir," answered Maynard. 

"Keep her son' and by west," cried the captain; 
"we must go ashore anywhere." 

It happened that a draught of wind drove back the 
flames, which soon began to blaze up more furiously 
towards the saloon ; and the partition, between it and 
the hold, was soon on fire. Then long wreaths of 
smoke began to find their way through the skylight ; 
and seeing this, the captain ordered all the women 
forward. The engineer put on his utmost steam ; 
the American flag was run up, with the union down, 
in token of distress ; and water was thrown on the 
sails to make them hold the wind. And still John 
Maynard stood by the wheel, though now he was 
cut off, by a sheet of smoke and flame, from the 
ship's crew. 

Greater and greater grew the heat ; the engineers 
fled from the engine-room, the passengers were 
clustering round the vessel's bow, the sailors were 
sawing planks to lash the women on, the boldest 
passengers were throwing off their coats and waist- 
coats, and preparing for one long struggle for life. 
And still the coasts grew plainer; the paddles as yet 
worked well ; they could not be more then a mile 
from the shore, and boats were seen starting to their 
assistance. 

"John Maynard !" cried the captain. 

"Ay, ay, sir !" said John. 

" Can you hold on five minutes longer?" 

"I'll try, sir." 

Noble fellow ! And he did try. The flames came 



JOHN MAYNARD A MODERN MARTYR. 101 

nearer and nearer ; a sheet of smoke would some- 
times almost suffocate him ; his hair was singed, his 
blood seemed ready to boil with the intense heat. 
Crouching as far back as he could, he held the 
wiieel firmly with his left hand, till the flesh shri- 
velled, and the muscles cracked in the flames. Then 
he stretched forth his right hand, and bore the same 
agony, without a scream, or a groan. It was enough 
for him, that he heard the cheer of the sailors to the 
approaching boats, and the cry of the captain, " The 
women and children first, then every man for him- 
self, and God for us all !" These were the last words 
he heard. Exactly how he perished was never 
known. Whether, dizzied by the smoke, he lost 
his footing in endeavoring to come forward, and fell 
overboard, or whether he was suffocated and fell 
into the flames, his comrades could not tell. At the 
moment the vessel struck, the boats were at her side ; 
passengers, sailors, and captain, leaped into them, or 
swam for their lives; and all, save he to whom, 
under God, they owed every thing, escaped. 

"We see from these cases, my dear children, that 
the poorest persons, and those in the humblest po- 
sitions of life, may become great in the sight of the 
Lord. "Who would not rather be great in the sight 
of God, than in the sight of men ? This greatness 
we may all attain to, if we only try aright. But 
there were three things, in John's case, that we must 
remember, if we want to succeed. John began early. 
He did not wait till he grew up to be a man, before 
he loved and served God. He began while he was 

9* 



102 THREE THINGS IN JOHN'S EXAMPLE. 

yet a child. And so must we, if we wish to be 
really great in goodness. 

And, then, John had the Holy Spirit to help him. 
When the angel Gabriel told John's father, Zaeha- 
rias, that God was going to give him a son, he said 
that he would be " filled with the Holy Ghost from 
the time he was born." John never would have 
been good, or great in the sight of God, without the 
help of this blessed Spirit ; and nobody else ever 
will, either. If you want to be great, as John was, 
you must get the help of the Holy Spirit, as he did. 

And then, again, John gave up every thing that was 
likely to hinder him from becoming great. "We are told 
that "he drank neither wine, nor strong drink." 
He was a temperate man, not only in drinking, but 
in eating, and in every thing. And so must we be, 
if we would be great in the sight of God. May 
God help us all to remember these things, my dear 
children ! May he give us grace " to follow John's 
doctrine and holy life, that we may truly repent ac- 
cording to his preaching; and, after his example, 
constantly speak the truth, boldly rebuke vice, and 
patiently suffer for the truth's sake, through Jesus 
Christ our Lord." Amen. 



THE LILY'S LESSONS. 
Matt. vi. 28 : Consider the lilies of the field. 

There was once a man who was a great writer. 
He had a wonderful power to tell just what people 
think, and feel ; and he had the power to tell these 
things in a way that nobody else could, so that those 
who read what he wrote, or heard what he said, 
would exclaim, " That is just what I think, and just 
what I feel." Now, this man, when writing once 
about the pleasantness of being in the country, said 
he loved to be there because he could — 

" Find tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing." 

And this is all true, my dear children. Perhaps you 
never thought of it, but it is still true. It is true 
there are " tongues in trees;" it is true there are 
"books in the running brooks," as they flow through 
the fields, and the woods. It is true that there are 
"sermons in stones;" and every little pebble you 
pick up by the side of the stream, if you know how 
to think of it rightly, will preach a sermon to you. 
It will tell you about the goodness and power of 
God in a better way than I can do, or any other 
living preacher. And it is true that there is "good 
in every thing." 

And now, dear children, when you go into the 
country this summer, I hope you will have a right 

103 



104 THE MISSIONARY AND THE LEAF. 

nice time of it in wandering through the sweet fields 
and woods ; but I hope you will not spend all the 
time in play. See if you cannot find out tongues 
in the trees, or hear words in the brooks, or find 
thoughts in the flowers. Yes! every leaf has a 
tongue, and every little flower. They all tell us of 
God. They are the thoughts of God. Somebody 
has said they were the smiles of God. But, what- 
ever we may think of this, we know they all have 
tongues to tell us something.* And, if we only 
learn to understand what they teach, how many wise, 
and profitable things may we learn from them ! 

I remember reading about a missionary, who was 
stationed in a distant country, far away from all his 
friends and loved ones at home. He had many 
trials to bear. At first he bore them cheerfully. He 
loved his work, and was very happy in attending to 
it. But, after a while, a change took place in his 
feelings. He lost his trust, and confidence, in God, 
and began to think there was no truth in what he 
had been believing, and teaching. He had doubts 
about the Bible, and the truth of God's word, and 
even doubted whether there was a God at all, who 
made the world and all things; and in this uncom- 
fortable state of mind he was not fit to preach nor 
attend to any of his duties. 

But once, while going on horseback to preach, 
and thinking of all these things, — of his unhappy 
state, and his doubts about the truth of what he 
was to preach, — his way led him along a thickly- 
shaded path ; and, as he went on, a little leaf dropped 
from one of the trees over his head, and came shak- 



HOW JESUS TAUGHT. 105 

ing, trembling clown, (you know how the little 
leaves fall,) and lighted right in front of him, on the 
saddle. He picked it up, looked at it, turned it 
over, and, as the sun was shining through the trees, 
held it up to the sunlight and saw all the beautiful 
little veins, looking like a delicate piece of lace or 
network. He thought, " Yes ! that little leaf tells me 
the Bible is true, — tells me there is a God; for none 
but a wise, merciful, good, and powerful God could 
have made a little leaf like that. I am sure it is all 
true," and he went on his way rejoicing, feeling 
happy and thankful. 

Now, dear children, didn't that leaf have a tongue 
for that missionary? Didn't he find a tongue in the 
tree from which that little leaf fell down? Cer- 
tainly he did ; and if we will only consider the 
flowers, and leaves, that God has made, we shall find 
them always telling us about God, and good things. 

It was in this way, dear children, that our Saviour 
taught the people wise and good things. Once, 
when he was walking through the fields, he saw a 
man sowing, when he began to preach a sermon 
about sowing the seed. Again, while going along, 
he saw a shepherd leading the sheep to pasture, 
when he preached a sermon about the Good Shep- 
herd. And yet, again, while walking by the lake, 
he saw some fishermen in their boats, mending 
their nets, to catch fish, when he preached them 
a sermon about being fishers of men, or engag- 
ing in the ministry. One day, being under a shady 
vine, and seeing the beautiful clusters hanging 
down from the branches, he > compared himself 



106 THE LILY'S GROWTH. 

to the vine, and his people to the branches, and 
preached a sermon about that. At one time he told 
the people about the little birds ; and here he tells 
us about the lilies: — "Consider the lilies of the 

field." 

Now, we are going to try to learn from the lilies 
this afternoon. The lessons we are about to con- 
sider, are those which the lily teaches. 

There are four lessons, we should all learn from 
the lily. 

In the first place, there is the lesson of its growth. 

The lily, in its beginning, is a very unpromising 
plant. It starts out of the earth, from an ugly-look- 
ing bulb or root, in size, and shape, something like 
an onion, so that, without knowing what the lily is, 
you would never think that any thing beautiful could 
come out of that unsightly, and unpromising, little 
root. Nobody would think so. But, children, put it 
in the ground, and cover it up, and then we shall see. 
God will make the rains, and dew, come down upon 
it; he will make the sun shine upon it, and warm 
it, and by-and-by a little sprout will begin to grow, 
so tender that you could take it with your finger and 
thumb, and destroy it with the slightest nip ; and yet 
it has the power to thrust aside the earth, and force its 
way through the ground, until it comes to the surface. 
Then, when it feels the warm sun, and fresh air, it 
grows faster, sprouts up higher and higher, and by- 
and-by come the beautiful green leaves, which drink 
in the dew and rain, and seem to rejoice in the sun- 
shine, when it falls upon them. Then the pretty 
little bud comes out from the beautiful leaves, shows 



OUR OWN GROWTH. 107 

its little head, grows larger, and larger, until it bursts 
into the beautiful white lily. 

Now, all the people in the world could not make 
one of these little bulbs grow up into such a beau- 
tiful flower. No : God alone can do it. Yet, dear 
children, the growth of the lily is just like our own 
growth. Suppose we take one of these little girls, 
or little boys, seven or eight years old. Their eyes 
are bright like diamonds, and their faces rosy with 
health, and life. God has made them well ; their 
little faces tell it. Suppose I ask you, "What are you 
made of ?" what would you say ? "Dust." Yes ! dust; 
you are made of dust ! Suppose one of you should 
die, and we should put you into an iron coffin, and 
bury you in the grave, for four, or five, or ten years, 
and then take the coffin up and open it: what should 
we find in it? Dust! — a little heap of dark dust, 
that you or I might take in the hollow of our hand ! 
These bright eyes are dust; these rosy cheeks are 
dust ; these active limbs are dust ; these curling ring- 
lets are all, all dust ! God has made them grow out 
of dust. Oh ! what wonderful power, and w T isdom, 
God must have to make these beautiful lilies grow 
out of this little root, and make these eyes, and 
cheeks, and hands, and feet, and bodies, all grow 
out of a handful of dust ! 

What a lesson the growth of the lily teaches ! Yes, 
my dear children, the growth of the lily, and our own 
growth, both teach us a lesson of the power, and 
wdsdom of God. 

Now, when you look upon the lilies, or roses, or 
beautiful flowers of any kind, as you wander in the 



108 the lily's humility. 

woods this summer, when you sit beside the pebbly 
brook, or under the shade of the trees, and see a 
little flower peeping up from among the grass 
around it, stoop down and pluck it, and think of 
this text, " Consider the lilies." Consider the flow- 
ers, and think what they teach of the power of God, 
and the wisdom of God to make all these beautiful 
things come out of the dust ! Remember, then, 
dear children, the first lesson : — the lesson of its 
growth. 

The second lesson, which the lily teaches us, is the 
lesson of humility. 

It teaches us the lesson of humility in two things 
about it : — the position in which it grows, and the attitude 
which it assumes. 

The lily loves to grow in lonely and retired places. 
It loves to stay in the background, — to be in the 
shade. It is the "lily of the valley. ,, You do not 
find it on the mountain-top, or growing in the 
streets, or garden-walks, but you must go into the 
retired and shady places ; and when you want to look 
for its flowers, you won't find them the first thing 
you see in the garden, but you must go into the 
corners, and, when you get there, push aside the 
leaves, and there you will see the beautiful flower, 
all alone, in the seclusion of a shady corner. It is 
an humble flower, and it teaches a lesson of humility 
in the place in which it grows. 

And then, its attitude shows its humility, as well 
as its position ; for, when the lily grows up, it hangs 
its head down as though it wanted to hide itself. It 
does not spread itself out like the proud dahlia, or 



A NOBLEMAN S HUMILITY. 109 

tulip, as much as to say, " Ain't I a beautiful 
flower ?" Oh, no ; when the lily gets its full growth, 
and its beautiful white flowers are formed, it hangs 
down its head, as though it wished to hide its beauty, 
and felt that it had nothing to be proud of at all, — 
as though God meant the very form, and attitude of 
this flower, should teach us humility. Now, dear 
children, humility is one of the sweetest things 
for anybody to have, and especially for boys and 
girls. 

Xothing is more lovely in young persons, than to 
be humble, — to cultivate humility. I will tell you 
what I mean by humility. 

There was once a nobleman, who lived in a fine 
country-place, who was the richest, and greatest, 
man in all that countiy. There were also some poor 
farmers, who lived around him, who used to hold a 
prayer-meeting once a week. This nobleman was a 
very pious man, and he thought he would like to go 
to their prayer-meeting. 

The first time he went, as soon as he opened the 
door and stepped inside, they all got up, as though 
they could not go on with their meeting, because the 
nobleman was there. Then they wanted him to go 
up and take the best seat. He said, "So, my friends ; 
sit down where you are, and I will sit here by the 
door. I came here, a poor sinner, like the rest of 
you ; we are all on a level, when we come before 
God. "When we go into the world, God has been 
pleased to give me more riches than you. It is right 
that some respect should be shown to this; but 
when we meet here, we all meet on a level, as sin- 

10 



110 a missionary's humility. 

ners to pray for God's blessing." This, dear chil- 
dren, is one example of humility. Now let me give 
you another. 

You have all heard about Dr. Morrison, a mis- 
sionary to China. As his labor was great, and almost 
too much for one to accomplish, he wanted some 
one to help him; and he wrote home to the Mis- 
sionary Society, in England, to send out another 
missionary. 

"When they got his letter, they set to work to in- 
quire among their friends for a suitable young man, 
to go out to China, as a missionary to help Dr. Mor- 
rison. After; a while a young man from the country 
— a pious young man, who loved Jesus Christ — came 
and offered himself. He was poor, had poor clothes 
on, and looked like a countryman, — rough and un- 
polished. He went to these gentlemen, was intro- 
duced to them, and had a talk with them. They 
then said he might go out of the room, till they con- 
sulted, with each other, about him. "When he was 
gone, they said they were afraid the young man 
would never do, to help Dr. Morrison ; that it would 
not do to send him as a missionary, as he was but a 
rough countryman. Finally, they said to one of 
their number, Dr. Phillips, " Doctor, you go out and 
tell the young man that the gentlemen do not think 
him fit to be a missionary, but if he would like to 
go out as servant to a missionary, we will send him." 
The doctor did not much like to do it; but he told 
the young man that they did not think he had edu- 
cation enough, and a great many other things neces- 
sary for a missionary, but if he would go as a ser 



THE HUMILITY OF A CHIEF-JUSTICE. Ill 

vant they would send liim out. Now, a great many 
would have said, "No, you don't do any such thing; 
if I can't go as a missionary, I won't go at all ; you 
don't catch me going as anybody's servant!" But 
no, children; he did not say so. He calmly said, 
"Very well, sir; if they do not think me fit to be a 
missionary, I will go as a servant ; I am willing to 
be a hewer of wood, or drawer of water, or to do 
any thing to advance the cause of my heavenly 
Master." He was then sent out as a servant, but he 
soon got to be a missionary; and turned out to 
be the Rev. Dr. Milne, one of the best, and greatest 
missionaries that ever went out to any country. All 
this, my dear children, sprang out of his humility. 

One time, in the reign of George III., King of 
England, there was a learned and a good- man w T ho 
had been appointed Chief-Justice of the country, — 
one of the highest, and most honorable offices in 
England. This gentleman had a son about sixteen 
years of age, and one evening, as he was about re- 
tiring, he called him to his room, and said, "My 
son, I want to tell you the secret of my success in 
life. I can give it to you in one word, — humility. 
This is the secret of it all ; because I never tried to 
push myself forward, and was always willing to take 
the place assigned to me, and do the best I could in 
it. And, my son, if you want to be successful, learn 
humility." 

And humility is a very lovely trait, and beneficial 
not only to ourselves, as in the case of this justice, 
but to others, as I will now show you. 

A young preacher, once, of the Methodist church, 



112 THE YOUNG MINISTER'S HUMILITY. 

was sent out on a circuit to preach the gospel. He 
was sent, not in the city, but in the country. One 
evening, as he was going upon his journey to preach, 
he stopped at the house of a farmer, who was also a 
Methodist. This farmer, though a good man, was 
sometimes very cross. He had met with some peo- 
ple who deceived him, and professed to be what they 
were not. When the minister, therefore, came to 
his house, — as he was rather rough-looking and un- 
educated, though the love of God was in his heart, 
and he desired to preach the gospel, — he told the 
farmer what he came for. The farmer was very cold 
to him, and even said something about being often 
deceived by people, who were not what they seemed 
to be. "There's my barn," said he; "put up your 
horse in the barn." He had plenty of servants, and 
might have sent one of them, the young minister 
thought ; and he was about to mount his horse and 
go on his way, although it was going to rain. Then 
he thought he would not: "That is not the way 
Jesus would have done," he said to himself; so he 
took his horse to the barn, and went to the house. 
When he came to the front-door, the farmer sent 
one of his servants to take him round to the kitchen ; 
and when there, he found some very coarse provi- 
sion spread out for him on a rough, solitary table. 
He thought it very strange, and the servants in the 
kitchen thought it strange too, that their master 
should send the minister to the kitchen. The young 
man felt much hurt, and thought he could not stand 
it, and would get his horse and go on again : but 



THE GOOD EFFECT OF HUMILITY. 113 

he said to himself, " Jesus would not have done so ; 
I will try to be humble, like Jesus." 

He sat down to eat the bread, and did not com- 
plain. After a while, he heard the bell .ring for 
prayers, and he went in with the servants to the 
room, and took his place. The farmer read a chap- 
ter; and, on getting through, it was very clear he 
had not made up his mind whether he would pray 
himself, or call upon the minister. At last he called 
on the young man, and asked him to pray. The 
minister felt glad to have an opportunity of praying ; 
and when he began, he forgot every thing but the 
presence of God, and he poured out his feelings in 
prayer before him. His heart was full, and his feel- 
ings, which had been wounded by what he had just 
borne, were relieved by tears. He wept ; the ser- 
vants wept; the people of the family wept; and even 
the farmer himself wept, and they had a weeping 
time of it, — all kneeling down, and all melted to 
tears. When they got up, the farmer came to the 
young minister, the tears running down his cheeks, 
and took him by the hand, and said, " Oh, forgive me, 
my dear friend and brother, forgive me ; and I will 
pray God to forgive me, too, for treating you so un- 
kindly. I do not know what is the matter with me. 
Satan has been tempting me to do every thing that 
is wrong. I am ashamed of myself for treating you 
so. I wonder you said nothing cross, and was will- 
ing to stay when I sent you to the kitchen." The mi- 
nister said, "I was trying to do like Jesus, and as he 
would have done ; and I hope you will try to do so 
too." The farmer took him into his parlor and gave 

10* 



114 JESUS THE GREAT EXAMPLE OF HUMILITY. 

him the best bed, and the best room in the house to 
occupy that night, and pressed him to stay two or 
three days. He consented to stay the next day, 
when they had a meeting, got the people together, 
and the minister preached. That sermon was blessed 
in the conversion of two or three souls. Two or 
three of the farmer's family were converted to God, 
and became useful Christians. Oh, what a blessed 
thing it was for that farmer's family, and for that 
neighborhood, that this minister understood hu- 
mility! — that he was an humble-minded man, and 
had learned the lesson of humility that the lily 
teaches, and that Jesus teaches! 

Jesus is the great lesson of humility. He came on 
earth to teach us to be humble. He came, not as a 
full-grown man, but as a little child, to teach us hu- 
mility. He was born, not in a splendid mansion, or 
a costly palace, but in a stable, and his cradle was a 
manger. And when he grew up to be a man, and 
went about preaching, he was so poor that he had 
not where to lay his head, — so dependent that wo- 
men ministered unto him. He w T as a servant, and 
not a master. On one occasion, when his disciples 
were all in a room together, he took a towel, and 
girded himself. Then he took a basin of water, and 
washed their feet and wiped them with the towel. 
He did all this to teach us the lesson of humility. 

Now, my dear children, I want you all to learn 
the lesson of humility which Jesus teaches, and 
which the lily teaches. 

The third lesson the lily teaches us, is the lesson of 
contentment 



THE LILY'S CONTENTMENT. 115 

The lily is satisfied with the place in which God 
has put it. It grows there, and likes it better than 
any other; and, although the roses are out in the 
middle of the garden, the lily does not fret nor envy 
them ; and, though the rose-bushes are much larger, 
the lily is satisfied with being a little plant that can 
just grow up in the shade, and lets the other plants 
grow up above it. The lily is contented with its 
position, and size, and color; and, although the rose 
has its beautiful red, and the lilacs and dahlias have 
their different colors, the lily has only the one beau- 
tiful white. Indeed, it is satisfied with its color, its 
place, its size, and all that God has made it to be, 
and have. 

Ah, my dear children, if we would only learn this 
lesson, how happy should we be ! Take it to your 
homes, and when you get up in the morning to be 
dressed, remember the lilies, and if you do not find 
your bonnet just what you like, be content with it. 
And if you do not find your coat, your collar, or 
something else you have to put on, exactly what you 
would wish it, be content with it, and remember the 
lily. How happy you would make your home, and 
how much unhappiness you would save yourself ! 

There was once a good bishop who had a great 
many things to vex him ; but he never murmured ; 
he was always pleasant. Some one said to him, 
" Well, bishop, I should like to know what is your 
secret of always being so happy. You have a great 
many troubles, trials, and difficulties, but I never see 
you worried, nor hear you complain about them. 
What is the secret ?" " Oh, the secret is, I look up; 



116 A SHORT RULE ABOUT FRETTING. 

my object is to get to heaven, which is above. I 
look around, and I see a great many people having 
worse trials than I have, and I am satisfied with my 
lot. I look to the graveyard, and see that when I 
die, I am only to occupy a space six feet long and 
eighteen inches wide, and I am satisfied with what 
I now have." That was the secret : — looking up to 
heaven, hoping to get there at last, looking around 
at others who are worse off, and then to the grave, 
in which we must all soon rest. 

Now, children, I have a capital rule to give you 
about fretting and grumbling, — a very short rule, 
which it is worth your while to recollect, if you want 
to cultivate contentment. Now, listen, while I tell 
you this rule, and try to practise it. "Never fret 
about what you can't help," because it won't do any 
good. il ''Never fret about what you can help," because, 
if you can help it, do so. When you are tempted to 
grumble about any thing, ask yourself, " Can I help 
this?" and if you can't, don't fret; but if you can, 
do so, and see how much better you will feel. 

Oh, remember this little rule ! I want all these 
dear'children to begin while they are young to prac- 
tise it. Before you go to bed to-night think about 
it: — "Never fret about what you can't help, nor what 
you can help,"— and fret not at all. 

I will tell you one more story about contentment. 
I remember reading a fable (you know, in fables, we 
make things talk that don't know how to talk) about 
a toad and a plantain-leaf. The toad used to live 
under a stone beside the brook. He was a pretty, 
fat toad, and got along in the world about as well as 



THE DISCONTENTED TOAD. 117 

toads generally do. One day he went out to find 
something to eat, and, hopping about among the 
green leaves by the creek's side, he heard a rustle 
among the leaves. He said to himself, " There's a 
beetle ! I like beetles. I'll be quiet and catch him." 
So he crept along till he got to it, and stuck out his 
tongue to get him, but it happened to be an humble- 
bee! He dropped it like a hot coal, and had to cry 
out (in the way toads cry) and hop back to his hole 
under the stone. He suffered with the pain, and his 
tongue swelled up, and he was obliged to lie by for 
two or three days. Hopping back to his home, he 
plucked a leaf of the plantain, and took it home for 
his medicine, and put it in his mouth, to cure the 
sting of the bee. He stayed at home for two or 
three days, and began to get hungry, and poor, and 
lean. So he thought he would go out, and find 
something to eat. As he hopped along, he came 
under the leaf of a plantain, — (now, this plant has 
very broad and large leaves, and they make quite a 
shade,) — and, being very tired and hungry, he stopped 
under the leaf, and, looking up, said, " Oh, what a 
nice time you plantains have ! I should like to 
change places with you. Toads have a very hard 
life." The plantain said, " Friend toad, I should 
like to change too. I don't see what toads can com- 
plain of; I think they must have a fine time of it." 
"Let me tell you," said the toad: — "In the first 
place, we have to work for our living, and find all 
we get to eat; and sometimes, when we think we 
are going to get a beetle, we get an humble-bee. 
Then, again, in winter-time, we get frozen up, and, 



118 THE TOAD NOT STICKING TO HIS BARGAIN. 

when we come out, the boys come along and stone 
us, the crows pick us up, and we have a great many 
troubles of this kind; while you plantains just have 
to sit by the river, and don't have to work. When 
the rain comes upon you it makes you grow and 
feeds you. I should like very much to change places 
with you." "But stop! let me tell you my side 
too. We plantains cannot hop about as you can, 
but have to stand just where we are placed ; and, if 
we want a drink of water, we can't go to the creek 
and get it. We can't move an inch to see the world, 
or visit our next neighbor. Then, the sun shines 
hot upon us all day, and we have to bear it, and 
can't hop under a nice cool leaf as you do. Then, 
by-and-by, comes along a cow and-nips off our head, 
or a little worm and eats into our heart, and we have 
not power to shake him off. I should like to change 
places with you. You take mine and I will take 
yours ; for I am so anxious to hop down to the creek 
and get a drink. I have not had a sip for months." 
" Stay ! stay !" said the toad ; " I hear a cricket ; let 
me get it !" and off he went for the cricket, but never 
came back. The plantain said he thought the toad 
was "a very shabby sort of fellow." 

Thus, my dear children, it appears that everybody 
has trials ; and the only way to get along is, not to 
be wishing for what we cannot get, but to learn the 
lily's lesson of contentment, and be satisfied with 
what God has given us. 

The last lesson the lily teaches is, the lesson of its 
beauty. Oh, if I only had one here, you could see 
for yourselves, how beautiful it is ! There are three 



THE LILY'S BEAUTY. 119 

things in which its beauty consists : — its form, its 
color, and its fragrance. It grows into a beautiful 
rounded flower, and has no sharp edges or corners. 
Then, its color shows its beauty. It is a beautiful 
pure white. It is satisfied with one shade, and don't 
want red, or yellow, or purple, or blue, or pink, but 
is contented to be a beautiful white lily. Then, its 
fragrance forms a part of its beauty. It perfumes the 
air, and, before you see it, you say, " There's a lily 
about here." You search for it, and trace it by its 
scent, until you find its little head, in all its beauty, 
hidden among the leaves. There is also another 
thing in which I may say its beauty lies. It is a 
tj^pe of Christ our Saviour. He calls himself the 
"Lily of the Valley" and the "Rose of Sharon." 
The form, and color, and fragrance, of the lily are 
all emblems to us of the beauty of Jesus Christ, and 
of what Jesus will make us, if we are his children. 

May God give us all grace to be humble and con- 
tented ! May he help us to learn and practise these 
lessons ! for in so doing we shall find greater happi- 
ness and comfort than in any thing else. 

JSTow, children, during the summer, when you go 
into the fields and woods, oh, remember this text, — 
"Consider the lilies of the field," — and learn the 
lessons of their growth, their humility, their con- 
tentment, and their beauty. 

My dear children, remember them ; don't be satis- 
fied with having them in your heads, but try to get 
them in your hearts, and keep them there. Don't be 
satisfied with talking about them, but try and practise 
them, especially these two, — humility and content- 



120 THE USE OF THESE LESSONS. 

ment, — which the lily so beautifully teaches. Again, 
you must begin to practise them now, while young. 
It will be better for you than thousands of gold or 
silver, or the richest fortune you could possibly 
have, or the greatest luxuries this world can afford. 

Pray God to give you grace to be humble, and 
contented, and to learn wisdom from the flowers of 
the field. When you see, or think of these flowers, 
lift up your thoughts to him who made them and 
you ; and that glorious Saviour, who likened himself 
to the lilies, will teach you to find beauties in na- 
ture, and in every thing around you. 

Remember, then, dear children, the lessons you 
have heard ; and may God bless them to you, and to 
me, and to us all ! 



THE GIFT FOE GOD. 

Pro v. xxtii. 26 : My son, give me thine heart I 

Suppose the angel Gabriel should come down 
from heaven, and stand here before us all, dressed 
in shining white, with his face brighter than the 
sun : what a beautiful sight he would present ! And 
suppose he should take a roll of paper from his 
bosom, and say he had a list of names, that God 
had given him, of fifty girls, and fifty boys, and that 
God wanted all of them to give him something 
which they had; and suppose he should begin to 
unroll the paper, and say that he was going to read 
out the names, and tell us what it was that God 
wanted : how strange we should feel ! Each one 
would be saying to himself, " I wonder if my name 
is there; I wonder what he wants me to give. ,, 
And when you heard your name read out, how glad 
you would feel ! And suppose the angel should say 
that he wanted you to go home, and get what he 
was sent for, that he might take it back with him : 
how gladly you would go ! how quickly you would 
run ! how soon you would be back, and bring him 
what he wanted ! No matter what it might be, — if 
it was your most valuable book, or your favorite 
plaything, your nicest doll, your new bonnet, or 

11 121 



122 WHAT WE DO WITH OUR HEARTS. 

dress, or cap, or coat, — something that you prized 
most of all that you possessed, — how gladly you 
would bring it ! 

But, my dear children, there is no angel here. 
There is only a man speaking to you ; but still it is 
a minister of God who is speaking, and it is a mes- 
sage from God that he has to deliver. He comes to 
tell you of something which you have, that God 
wants. Listen w T hat the text says ; it is G-od who is 
speaking in the language of the text; it is God who 
says, "My son, give me thine heart.'' 

Now, there are two things I wish to talk about, in 
connection with these words. 

The^rs^ is : — What it means to give God our hearts. 

The second is : — Why we should give them to him. 

Now, my dear children, you will notice that God 
does not ask us to give him our heads, nor our 
hands, nor our feet. Is not this strange ? Yet there 
is a reason for it. What do w r e do with our heads ? 
"We think with them. What do we do with our 
hands? We work with them? What do we do 
with our feet? We walk with them. But we don't 
do any of these things w T ith our hearts ; that is not 
what our hearts are for. 

Look! here is a little boy who has just returned 
to his home. He finds his father there, and he 
hastens to him and throws his arms around his 
neck, and says, — 

" Oh, my dear father, I do love you with all 
my " what? — why, heart, to-be-sure! 

Then, what is it that we do with our hearts ? Why, 
we love with them. Yes, my dear children, our 



THE IMPORTANCE OF A PLACE FOR EVERY THING. 123 

hearts were made for this. The heart is the seat, or 
place of the affections. 

In a large city, like this in which we live, there 
are different places where different things are made. 
There is the Mint, in Chestnut Street, where they 
make money; and the Navy-yard, down in South- 
wark, where they build ships. And then we have 
printing-offices, where books are made ; and ma- 
chine-shops, where engines and locomotives are 
built; and tailors' shops, where gentlemen's clothes 
are made ; and milliners' shops, where ladies' bon- 
nets are made ; and confectioners' stores, where 
cakes and sweetmeats are furnished; and apothe- 
caries' stores, where medicines are prepared and 
sold. It would be impossible, in a great city, to 
have one place which could furnish all these differ- 
ent things. And so it is in any great manufacturing 
establishment. There are a great many different 
things to be done ; and these are done, not all toge- 
ther, but each separately, and in a different place. 
I remember once visiting the Bible-house, in the 
city of New York. This is an immensely large 
building, belonging to the American Bible Society, 
and where Bibles are made to be distributed all over 
the world. The whole building is occupied in mak- 
ing Bibles. But of all the multitude of rooms in 
this great building, each one is occupied with some 
particular branch of the work. This particular 
work is done in that one room alone, and nowhere 
else. There is one room where the paper is moist- 
ened, and made fit for printing on; and another 
where the types are set up ; and another where the 



124 THE HEART, THE PLACE FOR THE AFFECTIONS. 



printing is done ; and then there is a drying-room, 
and a pressing-room, and a sorting-room, and a 
stitching-room, and a binding-room, and a gilding- 
room, and a finishing-room, and a packing-room. 
The packing is never done in the printing-room, nor 
the printing in the packing-room. Each part of the 
work is done by itself, and kept separate from the 
rest. And just so it is with our frames, our bodies, 
and souls. Every man, woman, or child, is like a 
great machine-shop. A multitude of things are to 
be done, and there is a separate place for the doing 
of each. There is much seeing to be done, and the 
eyes are appointed to attend to this. There is much 
hearing to be done, and the ears are made for this. 
And then we have the nose for smelling, and the 
tongue for tasting, and the finger-ends for feeling, 
and the brain for thinking, and the heart is that part 
of our frame which has to do with the affections. 
The heart, you know, is situated right in the centre 
of the body. When we speak about the heart, we 
generally place our hand upon the left side, as if the 
heart were situated just there. But it is no nearer 
the left side than the right, only we can feel its 
beatings more distinctly there. Its true place is in 
the centre of the body. The heart, you know, my 
dear children, is a hard substance, almost round, and 
about as large as one's fist. It is divided into four 
little chambers. Two of these are employed in 
pumping the blood into the heart, and the other two 
in pumping it out. And this pumping is going on 
day and night, all the time, from the moment we 
begin to live, until we die. You can feel this pump- 



GOD WANTS OUR AFFECTIONS. 125 

ing when you lay your hand upon your left side. 
And if you lie very still at night, when you are 
upon your bed, you can hear it. But is this what 
God wants? Does he wish us to take these real 
hearts out of our bodies and give them to him ? 

Oh, not at all ! We read about a nation who used 
to worship their idol-god in this way. The Peru- 
vians, who lived in South America, used to make 
offerings to their idols in this manner : — they would 
drag persons into the temple of their god, and lay 
them on a table or altar before his image, and take 
out their hearts, and present them, all smoking 
and quivering, and almost alive, as an offering to 
him. 

But, my dear children, this is not what God wants 
of us. It is not the literal heart that God wants. 
He speaks of the heart here in the way of figure, as 
the place where our affections lie; and what he 
wants us to give him is not the fleshly hearts out of 
our bodies, but the affections which are seated in 
these hearts. "When he says, " My son, give me thine 
heart," he means, My son, give me thy love; give 
me thy affections ; set thy affections on me ; love me 
above all things. 

This is what the text means when God says in it, 
"My son, give me thine. heart." 

Now, this is the answer to the first question that 
we proposed, — what it means to give our hearts to 
God. 

The second question is: — Why we should give our 

hearts to God t 

There are two reasons for this. 

11* 



126 GOD HAS THE BEST RIGHT TO OUR AFFECTIONS. 

In the first place, we should give our hearts to 
God, because he has the best right to them. 

He made them for himself, and they belong to 
him. There is a place in our hearts, in our affec- 
tions, which God designed for himself to fill or oc- 
cupy, and nothing else but God can fill that place ; 
and, unless God does fill it, we never shall be happy, 
either in this world or in the world to come. And 
if God made our hearts on purpose that we might 
love him with them, surely this is the best reason in 
the world why we should give them to him. 

Suppose a little girl should spend a holiday in 
dressing her doll, or a little boy in making a kite or 
a boat, and just when they were finished, — the doll 
all dressed, looking very sweetly, and the kite ready 
to fly, or the boat to sail, — some one should come 
along and take it away with violence : how wrong 
it would be ! 

Suppose a gentleman should build himself a beau- 
tiful house, and fit it up for his own use, and, just 
as he was getting ready to move into it, and live 
there, one of his neighbors should get in, and not 
be willing to let him enter and live in the house 
that he made for himself: how unjust that would 
be ! That man would have no right to the house. 
That girl would have no right to the doll, or that 
boy to the kite or boat. The house, the doll, the 
kite, or boat, each belonged to the person who had 
made it, and no one else had any right to it. 

What should we call the person who should act 
in this way ? "We should call him a robber. 

Just so it is, my dear children, with our hearts. 



ROBBING GOD. 127 

God made them for himself. God desires to keep 
our hearts. He wishes to come in and dwell in 
thern. He wishes to possess our affections. He de- 
sires that we should love him above all things. 

He says in one place in the Bible, " Behold, I 
stand at the door [of your hearts] and knock : if 
any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will 
come in to him, and will sup with him ;" but until 
we are ready to give our hearts to God, — to set 
our affections on him, — we are unwilling to let him 
come in and dwell in the place he made for himself 
to dwell in. Surely, this is robbing God ! — robbing 
him of what he made for himself, — of that which he 
desires to possess above all things ! Oh, how great 
the wickedness those commit who refuse to give God 
their hearts ! How many people there are who w T ould 
be ashamed to rob their fellow-creatures, who are not 
ashamed to rob their God ! How many people we 
find who would not take a dollar, a cent, a farthing, 
a pin, from one of their fellow-creatures, who do not 
hesitate to take from God all the affection which 
belongs to him, and rob him of those hearts, those 
affections, which he has made for himself! 

God once sent a prophet to ask the Jewish nation 
a very singular and startling question: (Mai. iii. 8.) 
I think it must have surprised them very much 
when they heard the question. It was this : — " Will 
a man rob God?" 

We are not told what the Jews said to the pro- 
phet when they heard his question. I dare say 
they were ready to exclaim, at once, " Why, no ! 
surely, nobody can be found guilty of such enor- 



128 HOW GOD IS ROBBED. 

mous wickedness !" But, before they had time to 
say any thing, God answered the question himself. 
He charged the dreadful guilt of this sin upon them. 
He said, " Yet ye have robbed me, even this whole 
nation.' ' And then, as if he thought they would 
ask, in surprise, "Why, how have we done this?" 
he said, "In tithes and offerings/' The tithes, here 
spoken of, referred to the tenth part of all their 
gains, and the produce of their grounds, which God 
required them to present as offerings to him. And 
when they failed to do it, God said they were rob- 
bing him. And if God called them robbers because 
they would not give him the money, or the cattle, 
or grain, that belonged to him, how much more will 
he consider us as robbers, if we refuse to give him 
our hearts or affections, which he so earnestly de- 
sires, and which he made on purpose that they 
might be given to him ! Bear this in mind, then, 
my dear children, that if we do not set our affec- 
tions on God, and love him better than any thing 
else, we are robbers ; and the worst kind of robbers 
too, for we are robbing God. We ought to give our 
hearts to God, because he made them, and has the 
best right to them. 

But, again, we ought to give our hearts to God, 
because he can make the best use of them.. 

What sort of hearts are ours when we are born 
into this world? Are they good or holy? No. 
What do the Scriptures say of the heart? They 
say, "The heart is deceitful above all things, and 
desperately wicked." 

And what can God do for hearts like these ? He 



god's truth the means of renewing the heart. 129 

can make them new. God lias promised in his word, 
(Ezek. xxxvi. 26,) saying, "A new heart will I give 
you, and a new spirit will I put within you ; and I 
will take away the heart of stone, and give you a 
heart of flesh." When our Saviour was talking with 
Nicodemus, he said it was by the power of the Holy 
Spirit that God caused his people to be born again, 
or to have their hearts made new. And the Apostle 
James (i. 18) tell us what are the means which the 
Holy Spirit makes use of, in accomplishing this 
work. He says, " Of his own will begat he us, with 
the word of truth. 11 The truth of his blessed word — 
that is, the truth of the Bible — is what the Spirit 
employs for this purpose. Nobody can tell how this 
great change takes place. We only know that it is 
a change which the Holy Spirit works, and that he 
makes use of the truth of the Bible in order to 
bring it about. But there is the greatest difference 
in the world, my dear children, between an old heart 
and a new heart, — between the heart we have by na- 
ture, and the heart when it is made new by the Holy 
Spirit. 

I remember, some time ago, seeing pictures of 
these two hearts in a book. In one of these pictures, 
of the old heart, — the natural heart, — Satan was re- 
presented as sitting in the midst of it, while frogs, 
and toads, and lizards, and other reptiles, were 
creeping in and out of it, illustrating the bad tem- 
pers and dispositions which belong to the natural 
heart. In the picture of the new heart, Jesus was 
represented as sitting in the midst of it, while light 
was streaming down upon it from above, and a 



130 A PICTURE OF THE OLD HEART, AND THE NEW. 



dove, representing God's Holy Spirit, was hovering 
over it. 

The old heart is proud, and cross, and disobe- 
dient, and selfish, and obstinate. The new heart is 
humble, and gentle, and kind, and obedient, and 
holy, and good. 

God has given us in his word a picture of these 
two hearts. You will find it in the fifth chapter of 
the epistle to the Galatians. The natural, or old 
heart, there, is described as being filled with things 
like these: — "Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, 
lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, 
emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envy- 
ings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such 
like." But the renewed l^eart is represented as 
being filled with the fruits of the Spirit, which are 
these: — "Love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentle- 
ness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance." What 
a contrast between these two hearts ! 

It will be better for us, my dear children, to have 
our hearts made new than to possess thousands of 
gold and silver ; but none can make these wicked 
hearts new but God himself; and it is for this reason 
he desires us to give our hearts to him, that he may 
make them new. 

But, again, God ivill make our hearts clean, and holy as 
vjell as new. This is another reason why we should 
give them to him. No heart ever can be made clean 
till it is first made new. What a sad thing it is to 
have a heart that never has been cleansed ! What 
would you think of a boy who had lived till he was 
twelve or fourteen years old, and never had his face 



THE HEART CLEANSED BY THE WORD. 131 

washed ? How frightful he would seem ! And yet, 
my dear children, how much worse it is to have a 
heart that has never been washed or made clean ! — 
a heart all defiled by sin, and which has been getting 
worse and worse every day. But how many such 
hearts there are! and they never can be washed, and 
made clean, until we bring them to God, that he may 
cleanse them. And the way in which God cleanses 
wicked hearts, and makes them holy, is by his word. 
We read in one place in the Bible that it is " with 
the washing of water by the word," that he cleanses 
wicked hearts and makes them pure and holy. The 
meaning of this is, that just as we wash our hands, 
or our clothes, when they are dirty, and make them 
clean in water, so by his word, — the water of his 
truth, — does God cleanse sinful hearts and make 
them pure. Let me give you, now, an illustration 
of what I mean by this. 

"A clergyman was once walking near a brook, 
when he observed a woman, washing wool in a 
stream. This was done by putting it in a sieve, and 
then dipping the sieve into the water repeatedly, 
until the whole became white and clean. 

"He entered into conversation with the woman, 
and, from some expression she used while she was 
speaking, he asked her if she knew him. 

"'Oh, yes, sir,' she replied; 'and I hope I shall 
have reason to bless God through eternity, from 
having heard you preach some years ago. Your 
sermon was the means of doing me great good.' 

" ' I rejoice to hear it,' said the clergyman. 'Pray, 
what was the subject?' 



132 THE WOOL-WASHER AND HER SIEVE. 

" < Oh, sir, I cannot recollect that, my memory is 
so bad/ 

ui "Well, how, then, can the sermon have done you 
so much good, if you don't remember even what it 
was about?' 

"'Sir,' said the woman, 'my mind is like this 
sieve. The sieve does not hold the water ; but, as 
the water runs through, it cleanses the wool. So 
my memory does not retain the words I hear, but as 
they pass through my heart, by God's grace, they 
cleanse it. Now I no longer love sin, and every day 
entreat my Saviour to wash me in his own blood, 
and cleanse me from all sin.'" 

Thus it was that this good woman had her heart 
cleansed, " with the washing of water by the 
word." 

Surely, then, dear children, this is a good reason 
why we should give our hearts to God, — because he 
can make the best use of them : he can make them 
clean. 

But God will not only make our hearts new and clean ; 
he will also make them happy. And surely this is a 
good reason why we shall give them to him. "We 
never can be happy until our hearts are made new. 
Suppose your arm was broken, or out of joint : could 
you ever have any comfort in using it while in that 
position? Of course not. The more you used it, 
the more uncomfortable it would make you feel. 
You must get the bone set, or the joint replaced, if 
you ever wish to use it again with comfort. And 
just so it is with our hearts. Until they are renewed 
by God's grace, we can have no more comfort, no 



A BEAUTIFUL COLLECT. 133 

more enjoyment, with them, than we could with a 
brokecl or a disjointed limb. And we never shall 
find any real happiness or comfort until these hearts 
are renewed ; and it is because God knows this so 
well, that he desires us to bring our hearts and give 
them to him. 

Now, God has told us, my dear children, what he 
wants of us. He has told us whom he wants it of. 
He wants it of each one of you. 

Let me, before closing, ask you the question, "Will 
you give God your heart ? "Will you begin to-day 
and pray for him to give you the help of his Holy 
Spirit, that your heart may be made clean and new", 
and you may find that happiness and peace which 
can only be found by those who know and love 
him? 

There is a beautiful collect in the Prayer-book, 
which is very suitable for those to use who desire to 
give their hearts to God, that they may be made 
new and clean. It is the collect for Ash- Wednesday. 
There we are taught to say, — 

"Almighty and everlasting God, who hatest no- 
thing that thou hast made, and dost forgive the sins 
of all those who are penitent, create and make in 
us, new, and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lament- 
ing our sins, and acknowledging our wretchedness, 
may obtain of thee, the God of all mercy, perfect 
remission and forgiveness, through Jesus Christ our 
Lord. Amen." 

And then there is a very sweet hymn in the Sun- 
day-school Hymn-book, which any one may use as a 
prayer who desires to obtain this greatest of all 



134 PRAYER FOR A NEW HEART. 

blessings that we can ask, or God can give. It is 
this : — 

" Oh for a heart to praise my God, — 
A heart from sin set free ; 
A heart made clean by thy rich blood 
So freely shed for me. 

"A heart resign'd, submissive, meek, 
My great Redeemer's throne ; 
Where only Christ is heard to speak, 
Where Jesus reigns alone. 

" An humble, lowly, contrite heart, 
Believing, true, and clean; 
Which neither life, nor death, can part 
From him that dwells therein. 

"A heart in every thought renewed, 
And full of love divine ; 
Perfect, and right, and pure, and good, — 
A copy, Lord, of thine." 

May God give to each of us such a heart as this, 
for Jesus' s&ke ! Amen. 



THE WONDERFUL LAMP. 
Psalm cxix. 105 : Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. 

The Psalm in which these words are found is the 
longest chapter in the Bible. It is divided into 
twenty-two parts, and contains one hundred and 
seventy-six verses. The shortest chapter in the 
Bible is the next but one before this, — namely, the 
one hundred and seventeenth Psalm. This con- 
tains only two verses. Now, it is worth remember- 
ing that the longest and the shortest chapter in the 
Bible are found so close together. This hundred 
and nineteenth Psalm is remarkable, not only for 
its length, but for other things also. It is all written 
about the Bible. The great object of it is to show 
what a wonderful and excellent book the Bible is. 
And this Psalm is remarkable, also, for the many 
different names it applies to the Bible. There are 
no less than ten different words made use of in this 
Psalm to signify the Bible. These are : — law, com- 
mandments, testimonies, statutes, judgments, word, pre- 
cepts, ordinances, way, truth. 

And, out of all these one hundred and seventy- 
six verses, there is only one which does not contain 
one or other of these names of the Bible. Read 
over this Psalm, verse by verse, and see if you can 
find more than one verse in which some one of 
these ten names of the Bible does not occur. Every 
one of these hundred and seventy-six verses, except 

135 



136 A LAMP NEEDED IN A DARK PLACE. 

the hundred and twenty-second, has something to 
say about the Bible. 

Now, our text is the hundred and fifth verse 
of this Psalm. And which of these ten names 
of the Bible is found here? "Thy word." And 
what does it say of this word? "Thy word is a 
lamp unto my feet." Here the Bible is compared 
to a lamp. The object of a lamp is to give light. 
And light is needed by those who are in the dark. 
And God tells us that this is just our condition 
here, in this world. He says that "darkness covers 
the earth, and gross darkness the people." This 
does not refer to the outward or natural world, 
which we see with our bodily eyes. No ; for there 
we have the glorious sun to give light by day, and 
the moon and stars, in all their beauty, to give 
light by night. But it refers to the inward, or spi- 
ritual world, — to the state in which our souls are. 
In the Bible, darkness means ignorance ; and, when 
it speaks of the people of the world as being in 
darkness, it means that they are in ignorance re- 
specting God, and heaven, and the things which 
belong to salvation. And, because the Bible gives 
us all the light we have on these matters, it is called 
"a lamp." "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet." 
God has hung out this blessed lamp in a dark, dark 
sky; and its heavenly light shines calmly, and 
sweetly down on multitudes of poor, wretched wan- 
derers, who are groping their way amidst all the hor- 
rors of midnight gloom and darkness. And, while 
we are thinking on this subject, there are two ques- 
tions that it will be well for us to consider. 



Aladdin's lamp: the bible better. 137 

The first is : — What sort of a lamy is the Bible ? 

The second is: — What should those icho have it do 
with it ? 

Now, there is one word which contains all that 
need be said in answer to the question, What sort 
of a lamp is the Bible ? and this is the word: — won- 
derful. The Bible is a wonderful lamp. Almost 
everybody has heard the Arabian story of Alad- 
din's wonderful lamp. The story says that this 
lamp was given to Aladdin by a magician. When 
the owner of this lamp wanted any thing, all he had 
to do was just to rub the lamp, and, instantly, the 
thing .that he wanted would be all ready for him. 
Plenty of money, splendid houses, beautiful car- 
riages and horses, or any thing else, could be had in 
a moment by a simple rub upon the lamp. This was 
wonderful indeed ; but I need not tell you there is 
not a word of truth in it. There never was such a 
lamp. And, even if there had been, the Bible is 
more wonderful still than that. I would rather have 
the Bible, and the happiness which it brings, than 
ten thousand such lamps as the Arabian story tells 
of, although every word said of them were true. 
Why, one of the very worst things that could pos- 
sibly happen to any of us, would be to have our own 
way, and be able to get every thing that we wanted. 
We should make ourselves perfectly miserable, and 
ruin ourselves in a short time, as sure as we are 
alive. The blessed thing about the Bible is, that it 
promises only those things which are really good for 
us ; and these it not only promises, but secures, to us. 
It is a wonderful lamp. But how is it so ? What 

12* 



188 WONDERFUL LIGHT OF THE BIBLE. 

is there about this lamp that makes it wonderful ? 
There are three things about it which are wonder- 
ful. It is wonderful for the light it sheds ; — wonderful 
for the comfort it yields; — and wonderful for the safety 
it affords. 

The Bible is a lamp that sheds wonderful light 
And the light which shines from this lamp is won- 
derful in several respects. It is wonderful for the 
length of time during which it has been shining. 
Most lamps only burn for a few hours at a time, and 
then go out. But this lamp has been shining for 
almost six thousand years. It was lighted in the 
garden of Eden. When Adam sinned, he brought 
that darkness on the world of which we have befqre 
spoken. The first promise which God gave him 
about the Saviour who was afterwards to come, 
was like kindling one little thread in the wick of 
this lamp. And then, as other parts of the Bible 
were written, the lamp burned brighter, and brighter, 
till Jesus came and the New Testament was finished. 
And now, for near two thousand years, this lamp 
has been fully lighted, and burning all the time. It 
is a wonderful lamp, when you think of the length 
of time during which it has been shining. 

It is wonderful, also, for the distance to which it 
shines. Most lamps, you know, will not shine very 
far. If you want to see clearly by a lamp, you must 
go pretty close to it. You can see its light, indeed, 
for hundreds of yards ; and, if it is lifted up very 
high, it may be seen even at the distance of several 
miles. The lamps on some lighthouses can be seen 
as far as twenty or twenty-five miles. Yet even 



ITS WONDERFUL POWER OF SHINING. 139 

this is a very trifling distance. The Bible — God's 
wonderful lamp — shines all the way from heaven to 
earth. We think it wonderful to have the light of 
the sun come to us from a distance of ninety-five 
millions of miles : and so it is. But the light of this 
lamp shines farther still. Nobody knows how far it 
is to heaven. But though we cannot measure the 
distance, yet, in the light of this lamp, we can see 
into heaven. It shines so clearly that when we look 
steadily in its light the pearly gates, and golden 
streets, and crystal streams, of heaven, may be dis- 
tinctly seen. And not only from heaven to earth 
does this lamp shine, but from one end of the earth 
to the other, its light is reaching. It is shining 
now, across the widest oceans, and over the highest 
mountains, and into the darkest corners of the earth. 
Oh, it is a wonderful lamp for the distance to which it 
shines ! 

And then it is wonderful also for the power with 
which it shines. Some lamps burn so feebly that the 
least puff of wind will blow them out. If you want 
to carry one of them about, you must put your hand 
before it, and go very carefully, or you will be left 
in the dark. And then, again, if the air is not pure, 
you often find that lamps will not burn* Sometimes 
when people are going down into wells, or other 
deep places, where the air has become impure, the 
lamps they carry with them go out in a moment. 
But it is very different with God's wonderful lamp. 
This shines with so much power that no tempest 
that ever beat, no wind that ever blew, has been 
able to put it out. Satan and wicked men hate this 



140 WONDERFUL COMFORT IN TRIAL. 

lamp, and have tried all they could to stop its shin- 
ing, but in vain. They have raised storms of fierce 
persecution; and fire, and sword, and chains, and 
dungeons, have been employed to stop men from 
reading, and circulating the Bible, but they have 
never succeeded. They have never been able to put 
out this wonderful lamp, or stop it from shining. 
And, as no wind is strong enough to blow it out, so 
no atmosphere is impure enough to put it out. It 
has been carried down into the darkest mines, the 
deepest pits, the foulest dens, on the earth, and it has 
kept on shining there, with a clear, steady light, till 
the darkness w T as all dispelled, and the impurity all 
removed. And when we think of all these things, 
— of the length of time during which it has been shin- 
ing, of the distance through which, and the power with 
which it shines, — we see how truly it may be called 
a wonderful lamp. It is wonderful for the light which 
it sheds. 

But it is wonderful, also, for the comfort which it 
yields. This lamp yields comfort to people under the 
trials of life; and it yields comfort in the prospect of 
death. There are trials numerous, and great, to be 
passed through in life. Whether we are rich, or 
poor, learned, or unlearned, we shall find trials which 
must be passed through ; and there is nothing like 
the Bible — God's wonderful lamp — -to give comfort 
under them. You know there is a hymn which 
says,— 

" 'Tis religion that can give 
Sweetest pleasure, while we live ; 
'Tis religion must supply- 
Solid comfort when we die." 



daniel's comfort, and david's. 141 

Look at Daniel. He was a great man, a wise man, 
an honorable man. Next to the king, he held the 
highest position in a nation that was then the 
mightiest on the face of the earth. But wicked 
men formed a plot against him. He was falsely ac- 
cused of being unfaithful to his king and country. 
He was dragged, as it were, in an instant, from his 
home and his honors. He was hurried away, as it 
was supposed, to a cruel and disgraceful death. The 
dark den of hungry lions was opened, and he was 
thrust into it. But, fierce as those untamed beasts 
were, they acted with the gentleness of lambs to 
him. Their mouths were closed, their violence was 
restrained, by an unseen, but mighty power, and 
they hurt him not. Still, Daniel's position was one 
of great trial. But he had G-od's word to think of. 
In the darkness of that dreadful den, this wonderful 
lamp was shining in upon Daniel's mind, and he 
found comfort from it. 

Or look at Paul. God had sent him to preach 
the gospel. He was going about telling everybody, 
as he had opportunity, what a glorious Saviour Jesus 
is, and what great blessings he bestows on all who 
love and fear him. But there is a wicked ruler who 
dislikes to have Paul preach of Jesus. He bids 
him stop his preaching. Paul will not do this. 
Then the ruler sends an officer to take him. He 
orders him to be beaten with rods on his bare back, 
till the flesh is torn and mangled, and the blood 
flows down in streams from the cruel wounds. 
Then he is loaded with chains and thrust into a 
wretched dungeon. Ah, what a trial was that ! And 



142 THE POOR CRIPPLE'S COMFORT. 

how did he bear it ? Did he pass the night in crying 
and groaning over his hard lot ? No, indeed. He 
had God's wonderful lamp with him, and it shone 
so brightly into his heart, and made him so happy, 
that he forgot his mangled, bleeding back ; and, as 
if it was -a palace, instead of a prison, that he was 
occupying, he sang out the gladness of his heart 
in psalms, and hymns, till all the prisoners heard 
him. 

But here is a case from our own times. There is 
an old man who is a cripple. He lives all alone, in 
a poor, miserable hovel. It is so old, and shattered, 
that the wintry winds sweep freely through it. The 
roof is so out of repair that the melting snows, and 
drenching rains, come dripping down in every part, 
except one little corner, which is occupied by the 
poor cripple's bed of straw. We can hardly think 
of any situation more wretched, and uncomfortable 
than this. Yet that poor cripple is a real Christian. 
He loves Jesus, and has a hope of heaven. Would 
you like to know how he feels in that lonely and 
cheerless hut? Well, a Christian friend and neigh- 
bor is going in to make a morning call. It is a raw, 
cold, December day. The visitor opens the door, 
and says to the poor sufferer, " Well, John, how do 
you do, this morning ?" 

"Oh, sir," he replies, "I am sitting under his sha- 
dow with great delight, and his fruit is sweet to my 
taste." He meant to say, by this, that he felt the 
presence of his Saviour, and that this gave him 
peace, and joy, amidst all his poverty and pain. 
God's wonderful lamp was shining in that lowly 



A SOLEMN THING TO DIE. 143 

hovel, and the poor sufferer living there was com- 
forted by it, under the trials of life. 

But we need comfort in the prospect of death, as well 
as under the trials of life ; and this wonderful lamp 
can give it to us here also. It is a solemn thing to 
die; — to bid farewell to all the familiar scenes of 
earth ; — to be separated from all the dear friends we 
have known and loved here ; — to lie down in the 
silent grave, and moulder into dust ; — to enter upon 
the awful and untried scenes of the eternal world ; — 
to stand before the judgment-seat of Christ, and have 
our condition fixed in happiness, or misery, for ever- 
lasting ages; — oh, there is something unspeakably 
solemn in all this ! Who can think of it, and not feel 
his spirit awed within him ? Ah ! we need comfort 
in the prospect of death, more than we can possibly 
need it, at any other time. And we must have it, too, 
or we shall be badly off indeed. Yet there is no- 
thing that can give us real, substantial, satisfying 
comfort, except the Bible. 

This wonderful lamp was lighted, on purpose, that 
it might shine on the darkness of the grave. When 
it does shine, there is comfort in the prospect of 
death ; when it does not shine, there is none. Here 
is a striking illustration of this. Two Hindoos are 
dying. One of them is still a heathen ; he is with- 
out this lamp. The other is a Christian ; he has it. 
Now, mark the difference between them. The hea- 
then Hindoo feels that death is approaching fast. 
He sends for the Brahmin, his priest, and asks him, 
with great eagerness, "What will become of me 
when I die ?" " At your death," said the Brahmin, 



144 TWO HINDOOS DYING — A CONTRAST. 

"your spirit will enter the body of some reptile, 
and live there, a long period of time." " And, when 
that is over, what will become of me ?" asked the 
dying man again. "Then," said the Brahmin, "you 
will pass into the body of some animal for another 
long period." "And what then?" asked the poor 
man. The Brahmin led him through a long series of 
changes, reaching over some thousands of years. At 
every step in the progress, he was met by the earnest 
inquiry of the dying man, "And what then?" He 
felt that thousands of years were as nothing to eter- 
nity. The Brahmin got to the end of all his changes, 
and still the cry met him, What then f But he could 
not answer it. He had nothing more to say ; and the 
poor dying heathen, without hope, or comfort, was 
compelled to take a leap in the dark, and find out 
the answer to his question in his own sad expe- 
rience. God's wonderful lamp had never shone 
upon him, to give him comfort in the prospect of 
death, and therefore he could find none. 

But another Hindoo is about to die. He is a 
young man connected with a mission-school. There 
he has learned to read the Bible, and it has taught 
him the way of salvation. He feels that his last 
hour has come. He calls one of his friends to his 
bedside, and, with a countenance beaming with 
peace and joy, he exclaims, " Sing, brother, sing." 
"What shall I sing?" asks his companion. "Sing 
of salvation through the blood of Jesus. Sing, 
Thanks be to him who giveth us the victory, 
through our Lord Jesus Christ;" and then he sunk 
back upon his couch and died. He had this won- 



davy's safety-lamp. 115 

derful lamp. It had been shining in upon his soul ; 
and its clear shining gave him comfort, in the pros- 
pect of death. 

But this lamp is wonderful for the safety which it 
affords. Persons who have to go into coal-mines are 
exposed to many dangers. One of these arises from 
a particular kind of gas, which is sometimes found 
there, and which, the very moment it comes in con- 
tact with the flame of a lamp, or candle, explodes 
like gunpowder, burning, and destroying, all persons 
within its reach. Hundreds of lives have been lost 
in this way. Some years ago, a wise and good man, 
whose name was Sir Humphry Davy, invented a 
lamp, for the purpose of guarding against the danger 
of explosion from this gas. It had fine wire gauze, 
arranged round the flame of the lamp, in such a way, 
that it would give notice to the miners of the pre- 
sence of this dangerous gas, and, at the same time, 
keep the flame of the lamp from touching it, till 
they escaped from the danger. It is called Davy's 
safety-lamp, and has proved a great comfort, and 
blessing to miners. It has saved a great many hun- 
dred lives. 

Now, this world is like a great coal-mine, and all 
its inhabitants are like miners. The sins, that abound 
here, are like this dangerous gas, and, when they 
come in contact with our evil passions, violent ex- 
plosions are often produced, and great damage is 
done. "We need a safety-lamp to show us where the 
dangers lie, and help us to escape from them. And 
just such a lamp we have. The Bible is a safety-lamp 

13 



146 THE SAFETY GOD'S LAMP AFFORDS. 

which God has invented for this very purpose. If 
we carry it with us, as we move about in this great 
mine, and use it carefully, it will afford us entire 
safety. It will always warn us when danger is nigh, 
and show us how we may escape it. This is just 
what our text means, when it says, " Thy word is a 
lamp unto my feet." It is a wonderful lamp. It is 
wonderful for many things, but for nothing more, 
than for the safety it affords to those who use it 
rightly. Such persons are said to be "under the 
shadow of God's wings;" and "in the hollow of his 
hand." What a position of safety this is ! This 
was the position which David occupied when he 
said, " The Lord is my light, and my salvation ; whom 
then shall I fear ? the Lord is the strength of my 
life; of whom shall I be afraid?" He knew that an 
eye, which never slumbers, was watching over him, 
and that an arm, which never wearies, was stretched 
out for his defence. And this is just as true of us, 
as it was of David, if we are walking by the light of 
this wonderful lamp. Then, the words spoken in 
Ps. cxxi. 5-8, refer to us, and show the safety we 
enjoy: — " The Lord is thy keeper; the Lord is thy 
shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite 
thee by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord 
shall preserve thee from all evil : he shall preserve 
thy soul. The Lord shall preserve thy going out 
and thy coming in from this time forth, and even 
for evermore." And when we think of the light 
which this lamp sheds, of the comfort which it 
yields, and of the safety which it affords, we see 
how truly it may be called a wonderful lamp. This 



WHAT TO DO WITH THIS LAMP. 147 

answers our first question : — What sort of a lamp is 
the Bible ? 

The second question can receive a much shorter 
answer. This question is : — What should those who 
have this lamp do with it? They should do two things 
with it: — They shoidd use it themselves, and they should 
send it to others. "We should use this lamp ourselves. 
This is what it is given to us for. We all have need 
to use it. It is shining about us, and into our hearts, 
on purpose that we may see the greatness of our 
sins, and then come to Jesus to get rid of them. 
This wonderful lamp can do us no good unless it 
shows us the way to Jesus, that we may learn to 
love and serve him. We may as well be without it, 
— nay, we had much better be without it, than fail 
to make a right use of it. To neglect to use this lamp 
aright, is the greatest sin we can commit. We shall be 
condemned to everlasting destruction for this very 
thing. Jesus said, when he was on earth, " This is 
the condemnation, " (that means, this is the thing 
for w 7 hich men will be condemned,) "that light is 
come into the world, and men love darkness, rather 
than light, because their deeds are evil." Then let 
us, my dear children, use this lamp to find out the 
way to heaven ; and, when we see that way, let us 
strive to w^alk in it. This is the right use to make 
of this lamp for ourselves. 

But then we must send it to others, as well as make a 
right use of it ourselves. There was a fisherman, 
once, whose hut was situated on a high and rock- 
bound coast. Near by was a snug cove, with a 
smooth, sandy beach, where he was accustomed to 



148 THE FISHERMAN IN A STORM. 

draw up his little boat, and from which he went 
forth, day by day, to engage in his toilsome occupa- 
tion, on the waters of the stormy sea. One day he 
went out, as usual, to spend the day in fishing. He 
toiled on, with encouraging success, till towards the 
close of the afternoon ; when, looking up to the sky, 
he saw threatening signs of an approaching storm. 
Immediately he hauled up his lines, resolving, if 
possible, to reach his home before the gathering 
tempest should burst upon him. But he had a long 
distance to go, and the wind was ahead, and the sea 
was rough, and the storm came on fast, and the day 
was almost gone. Yet, with a brave and trusting 
heart, he turned the bow of his boat, in the right 
direction, and began to row towards home. Right 
manfully did he bend upon his oars, and his boat 
flew rapidly over the white-capped billows. But 
darker, and darker grew the heavens above him ; 
and soon all trace of daylight had disappeared. The 
outline of the coast had faded from his view, and he 
could no longer see any of those well-known land- 
marks, by which he was accustomed to direct his 
course. He went as near the coast as he could, with- 
out being dashed against its jagged rocks. And 
then he rowed on, till he was exhausted ; but no sign 
of his hut, or of the little cove near by, could he dis- 
cover. The storm raged fiercer, and the night grew 
darker. Hope died away within him, and death 
stared him in the face. He expected every moment 
that his frail boat would be swallowed up in the 
stormy waters. But, just then, a faint ray of light 
met his eye. It renewed his strength. He rowed 



THE LAMP THAT SAVED HIM HOW HE USED IT. 149 

on more heartily. Very soon he found that it pro- 
ceeded from the window of his own little hut. It 
guided him to the cove, he was accustomed to enter. 
He drew his boat up safely on the sand, and, grate- 
ful for his own deliverance, before he went to bed 
that night, he trimmed the lamp, and filled it with 
oil, and set it in the window of his humble dwelling, 
that its friendly light might shine out upon the 
stormy sea, and perhaps guide some other tempest- 
tossed voyager to a place of safety. And as long as 
he lived, he continued this practice. It was very 
proper that he should do this. He made a right use 
of the lamp himself, and then he tried to extend the 
benefit of it to others. And this is just what we 
should do. We have God's wonderful lamp. It is 
shining all about our path. It shows us how we 
may sail over life's stormy sea, so as to reach the 
haven of enduring rest and safety at last. But there 
are multitudes, of our fellow-creatures, who are 
tossed on this tempestuous sea, without a single ray 
of light to guide their way. What is our duty? 
Should we not send this wonderful lamp to them ? 
This is all they need. It is abundantly able to guide 
them to the only place where they can find safety. 
And when we present our offerings to the mis- 
sionary cause, when we give our money to send the 
Bible to the benighted heathen, and when we pray 
to God to bless our offerings, then we are holding 
up this wonderful lamp, that those who are in dark- 
ness may see its light, and follow its guidance, and 
be happy forever. There are two things, my dear 
children, that you should earnestly pray for. One 

13* 



150 TWO THINGS TO PRAY FOR. 

is, that God may give you grace to make a right 
use of this lamp yourselves ; and the other is, that 
he would help you to do all you can to send it to 
others. When Jesus was on earth, he said to the 
people, " "While ye have the light, walk in the light, 
lest darkness come upon you." And he says the 
same to us. If we neglect to use this lamp properly 
ourselves, we commit a great sin ; and expose our- 
selves to great danger. And so we do if we neglect 
to send it to others. For there is a passage of Scrip- 
ture which says, " To him that knoweth to do good, 
and doeth it not, to him it is sin." May God enable 
us "both to perceive, and know, what things we 
ought to do; and also give us grace faithfully to 
fulfil the same," for Jesus' sake ! Amen. 



THE CHILD'S FORTUNE TOLD. 

Prov. XX. 11 : Even a child may be known by his doings. 

There are many different ways in which we may 
know a person. Sometimes we know persons by 
sight. Almost every day in the week, as I pass by 
the Pennsylvania Hospital, standing against the 
wall at the corner of Eighth and Spruce Streets, I 
see a poor, blind, colored man, begging, and offering 
matches for sale. I can see him half a square off, 
as I go up and down the street. And if I should 
see him anywhere else, I could tell him in a mo- 
ment. I know him by sight But where he lives, or 
whether he has any family, or what sort of a man 
he is, I cannot tell. I only know him by sight. 
Sometimes we know a person by name. Everybody 
in this country knows Franklin Pierce, the Presi- 
dent of the United States, by name, though hun- 
dreds of thousands of people have never seen him. 
In the same way almost everybody knows Barnum, 
the great showman, though very few would know 
him by sight if he should appear before them. And 
sometimes we know persons by description. If you 
should read an advertisement of a person who had 
committed a robbery, in which he was represented 
as having red hair, being light-complexioned, cross- 
eyed, with a large wart on his nose, short of stature, 
and limping on his left foot, although you had never 

151 



152 PEOPLE KNOWN BY THEIR ACTIONS. 

seen the man before, yet, from reading this account 
of his appearance, yon would know him, from de- 
scription, as soon as you saw him. And then, again, 
persons are known by their actions; that is, by cer- 
tain things that they have done. In this way we all 
know Noah, as the man who built the ark. We 
know Moses, as the man who led the Israelites out 
of Egypt, and through the wilderness. So we know 
David, as the man who killed the giant; and Daniel, 
as the man who was thrown into the lion's den. 
And so everybody knows Christopher Columbus, as 
the man who discovered America; and George 
Washington, as the man who saved his country; and 
Benedict Arnold, as the traitor who basely betrayed 
it. And when we read history, we learn to know 
the character of the different persons spoken of, by 
the things they have done. And this is the way of 
knowing persons that Solomon speaks of in our 
text. It is not by sight, nor by name, nor by descrip- 
tion ; but by actions. And children may be known in 
this way as well as grown persons. The wise man 
tells us here, that " even a child may be known by 
his doings/ ' 

Now, there are two questions to be considered in 
connection with this text. 

The first is: — What is meant by "doings" here ? 

The second is: — What may be "known" of a child in 
this way ? 

Now, I suppose, when Solomon used the word 
"doings" here, in reference to a child, he meant to 
speak of three things: — namely, the tempers he in- 
dulges; the habits he forms; and the company he keeps. 



CHILDREN KNOWN BY THEIR TEMPERS. 153 

The tempers indulged, by every young person, 
constitute part of those doings by which he may be 
known. "We all know what temper means. It is a 
word we use to express the kind of feelings we have, 
towards those who are about us. And our tempers 
have very much to do with making up our charac- 
ters. Sometimes we look at persons, or things, 
through something which makes them appear very 
different from what they really are. If I look at 
you through a piece of green glass, you appear to be 
green. And if I look at you through a red piece, 
you will look red. But this does not prove that you 
are green, or red, does it ? Of course not. It only 
proves that I am looking at you, and judging of you, 
in a wrong way. But when we look at persons, and 
judge of them, through their tempers, we are sure 
to be right. Then we see, and know, just what they 
are. We are all just what our tempers make us. 
Now, there is as much difference in the tempers of 
children, as there is in the color of their hair, or 
their eyes, or in the complexion of their counte- 
nances. Some children have cross tempers. If you 
speak to them, you are sure to get some sharp, surly 
answer. They snap and snarl like some ill-natured 
dog, whose delight is to be as ugly as he can. If 
you ask them to do the smallest favor, you are sure 
to be refused, and that, too, in a rough, ungracious 
manner. Other children have kind tempers. They 
always have something pleasant to say, when they 
are spoken to. They are ready to do every thing 
in their power to accommodate others. They are 
always striving to make those about them comfort- 



154 FRETFUL AND PATIENT TEMPERS. 

able. Tliey are like little sunbeams, and diffuse a 
cheerful, happy light wherever they go. 

Some children have fretful tempers. They are all 
the time finding fault, with something or other. 
They fret about the weather. It is either too hot, or 
too cold, too wet, or too dry. They fret about their 
clothes. Here is one of these fretters getting 
dressed. Just listen to him a moment. He takes 
up his coat. " Such a looking coat !" he murmurs. 
"Who ever saw the like? About half a mile too 
big!" Observe, fretters never tell the truth. And so he 
goes on with every thing, he takes up. His stock- 
ings are too thin; and his shoes too thick. One 
thing is too long, and another too short. One is too 
tight, and another too loose. These children fret 
about their food too, as well as their clothes. It is 
either done too much, or not done enough. It is 
either too coarse, or too fine, or too something or 
other that must be complained of. 

Other children, again, have patient tempers, the 
very opposite of these. They never fret about the 
weather; because they feel that God, who sends it, 
knows better than they do what kind to send, and 
what he sends must be best. They never fret about 
their clothes ; because they know that hundreds of 
people are wearing clothes much worse than theirs. 
And they never fret about their food ; because they 
know that, however bad it may be, it would Be a 
great deal worse to have none. 

There were two gardeners, once, whose crops of 
peas had been killed by a frost. One of them fretted 
and grumbled, and said nobody was so unfortunate 



KEEPING THE ROTTEN ONE FOR CHARLIE. 155 

as he was. Visiting his neighbor, some time after, he 
called out, in astonishment, "What a fine crop of 
peas ! What are these ?" " These are what I sowed 
while you were fretting," said the other. "Why, 
don't you ever fret ?" " Yes ; but I put it off till I 
have repaired the mischief." "But then, you have 
no need to fret at all." "That's very true," said 
the other; "and that's just the reason why I put 
it off." 

Some children have selfish tempers. They always 
think of themselves first, and help themselves to the 
best of every thing. A little girl belonging to this 
class, whose name was Mary, was out visiting once, 
with her mother. She had a little brother, called 
Charlie, who was left at home. The lady, at whose 
house they were visiting, gave Mary two peaches. 
One of them was a nice, plump, mellow, juicy peach, 
that would make your mouth water to look at it. 
The other was a poor-looking one, with a great spot 
on the side, showing that it was half rotten. Mary 
began at once, very eagerly, to eat up the ripe peach. 
Presently, her mother said to her, " Mary, my child, 
are you not going to save some for Charlie ?" " Oh, 
yes, ma," said Mary; "I am saving the rotten one 
for Charlie!" And people who indulge this selfish 
feeling while they are young, will find it remain 
with them when they grow up. There is one place, 
in the Bible, in which God complained of the Jews, 
that they kept the best of their lambs and sheep in 
their flocks, and offered him "the lame and blind." 
The people who would do this, when they are grown 
up, are the very ones who, when young, would 



156 THE GENEROUS TEMPER — KING ALFRED. 

"keep the rotten one for Charlie." And these sort 
of people are to be found among us, as well as 
among the Jews. Look at that plate, on which the 
Communion collection has just been taken up, in 
church. See; there's a counterfeit coin. And there 
are two or three other pieces, so plain, and poor, 
that they would not pass in business. Nobody would 
take them in trade. But, though not good enough 
to be offered in payment for meat or potatoes, some- 
body thought them good enough to be offered to 
God. I never see one of these plain coins, in a col- 
lection, without thinking, "Ah! that was given by 
one who has been accustomed, from childhood, ' to 
keep the rotten one for Charlie.' " 

Other children have generous tempers. They 
always like to share what they have with others. If 
they have a cake, or a pie, or something very nice 
to eat, they do not sneak away, into a corner, and eat 
it all themselves : they love to go among their bro- 
thers, and sisters, or companions, and share it with 
them. They feel happier for it; and have much 
more enjoyment of the part they do eat in this way, 
than if they had eaten it all. It is said of Alfred, 
the great and good king of England, that, during 
the time in which he was driven by the Danes from 
his throne, and was wandering in disguise and po- 
verty, he was reduced so low, that a part of a loaf 
of bread was all his supply. While in this state, a 
hungry beggar approached him, and implored re- 
lief. The generous monarch opened his wallet, and 
shared freely, his last morsel, with one of the hum- 
blest of his subjects. And he who could act thus, 



A CHILD KNOWN BY HIS HABITS. 157 

as a man, must have been accustomed to act so 
when a child. And these tempers, indulged, are 
part of the " doings" of a child by which he may be 
known. 

But, again, by the habits he forms, as well as by the 
tempers he indulges, a child may be known. By 
habits we mean the ways in which we are accus- 
tomed to do things. Somebody once said that 
"man is a bundle of habits." And this is just as 
true of boys, and girls, as it is of men, and women. 
Indeed, it is while we are young that we tie up this 
bundle. And, as it is a bundle we carry with us all 
our lives, we should be very careful what we put 
into the bundle. Some children form idle habits. 
They love to lie in bed late in the morning. It is 
hard to waken them, and get them up ; and when 
they are up it is hard to get them to work, or study, 
or do any thing but play or loiter about. These sort 
of children remind one very much of the farmer's 
horse. This horse, the farmer said, had only two 
faults. One was, that he was very hard to catch. 
The other was, that when he was caught he wasn't 
good for any thing. Other children have industrious 
habits. They rise early; they study hard; and get 
their lessons well. If they are set to work they do 
it cheerfully; they are not easily tired, but keep on 
until the work is done. People with these habits 
always succeed in life. There is no difficulty which 
industry has not conquered. One day, a load of coal 
was thrown down before the door of a cellar, in 
which a poor family lived. A little girl w T ent out, 

with quite a small shovel, and began to shovel it up. 

14 



158 CARELESS HABITS A GREAT EVIL. 

"My little child," said a gentleman who was passing 
by, "you can't get all that coal in with your small 
shovel." "Oh, yes, I can, sir," said the little girl, 
"if I only ivork long enough." 

There was a poor boy, once, who resolved to get 
an education. He had to work hard all day, and, 
when evening came, he had no place to read in, and 
no light to read by ; so he used to take his book, 
and go into the street, and stand by some shop- 
window, and study in the light that shone from 
it. And sometimes, when the stores were closed, 
before he got through, he would climb up a lamp- 
post and hold on with one hand, while he held 
his book with the other. It is not surprising that 
he became a man who was distinguished for his 
learning. 

Some children form careless habits. They never 
put things in their proper places, but lay them down 
and leave them just where they may happen to be. 
Then, when they want them, they can't tell where 
to find them. Suppose you were visiting in a family 
where several children live who have formed care- 
less habits. The morning-hour for going to school 
has come. There is a great noise, and confusion in 
the entry. You go to your room-door, to find out 
what is the matter, and you hear sounds like these : 
— "Where's my hat?" "Where's my bonnet?" 
"Who's taken my books?" "Somebody's always 
taking my things. I do wish people would mind 
their own business, and let my things alone !" Poor 
children ! Who has been taking their things, and 
teazing them so ? Nobody at all. Their things are 



THE CARELESS COOPER — THE GREAT EXPLOSION. 159 

just where they left them; and they find them pre- 
sently, one in the parlor, another in the dining- 
room, and another in the kitchen. Now, there is 
no telling, my dear children, how much evil some- 
times results from the formation of careless habits. 
Several years ago a dreadful explosion, of gunpow- 
der, took place in Wilmington, Delaware. Three 
large wagons were carrying powder, in kegs, from 
Mr. Dupont's mills on the Brandy wine, to a place on 
the Delaware. As they were passing the outskirts 
of the city, and while just opposite the beautiful 
mansion of Bishop Lee, there was a flash; — a tre- 
mendous noise ; — and all was over. In an instant, the 
wagons, the horses, the drivers, and all about them, 
were blown to atoms. Nobody ever could tell ex- 
actly how it took place. But, if the truth were 
known, I dare say it would be found that an act of 
carelessness was the cause of it. Suppose, for in- 
stance, that a cooper of careless habits had made 
one of the kegs. While making the keg he took 
up one of the staves, which had a little hole in it. 
He was too careless to notice it, or to mind it, 
if it was noticed. He put that stave in the keg. 
The keg was taken to the mill, and filled with 
powder. The wagon is loaded. That keg is put 
in. The motion of the wagon shakes the powder 
through the hole. Presently a spark, either struck 
by the horse's shoe, or coming from some other 
source, lights on the scattered grains, and the awful 
mischief is done. How many a calamity, equally 
terrible, has been caused by a single act of care- 
lessness ! 



160 THE ENDS OF CANDLES — THE LARGE SUBSCRIPTION. 

Other children form careful habits. They never 
waste any thing. In regard to time, and money, and 
every thing else, they remember our Saviour's words, 
"Gather up the fragments, that nothing be lost." 
They put things in their proper places, and always 
know where to find them. Their rule is : — "A place 
for every thing, and every thing in its place." It is 
an excellent rule, and attention to it will work won- 
ders. Those who form habits of this kind, when 
they grow up, are almost sure to be rich and useful. 
Two gentlemen were once engaged in procuring 
subscriptions to the Bible Society. As. they passed 
by a fine large house, they heard the gentleman who 
lived there, reproving the servants in the kitchen for 
extravagance, in throwing away the ends of candles, 
and half-burned lamp-lighters. "Well," said one 
of the collectors to the other, " it's not worth while 
to stop here ; for a man who is so careful about the 
ends of his candles will hardly give any thing for 
the Bible." "It will do no harm to try," said the 
other. They went in, and were agreeably surprised 
at receiving a very large subscription. "Sir," said 
one of the collectors, "the amount of your subscrip- 
tion greatly surprises us. For when we heard you, 
a few moments ago, reproving your servants for not 
saving the ends of candles, we thought it hardly 
worthwhile to stop." "Ah! gentlemen," said he, 
" it is by the habit of carefulness, in little things, that 
I am able to give largely to the Bible Society, and 
other good causes." 

A young man once went into the city of Paris, to 
seek a situation. He had letters of recommendation 



A FORTUNE MADE BY A PIN. 161 

to a large banking-establishment. He called on the 
gentleman who was at the head of it, full of hope, 
and confidence, that he should find employment. 
The gentleman heard what he had to say, and 
looked over his letters hastily, and then handed 
them back to him, saying, "We have nothing for 
you to do, sir." The young man felt his heart sink 
within him. He was ready to burst into tears. But 
there was no help for it. So he made his bow, and 
retired. But, as he was passing in front of the build- 
ing, there was a pin lying on the pavement. He 
stopped, stooped down, and picked it up, and then 
stuck it carefully away, under the bosom of his coat. 
Now, it happened so that the gentleman with whom 
he had just been speaking was standing at the win- 
dow, and saw what took place. In an instant, the 
thought occurred to him that the young man who 
had such habits of carefulness as to stop, in such a 
moment of disappointment, and pick up a pin, 
would make a useful business man. He sent, imme- 
diately, and called him back. He gave him an hum- 
ble situation, in the establishment. From that he 
rose, by degrees, till he became the principal partner 
in the concern, and, eventually, a man of immense 
wealth, and the chief banker in Paris. Here was 
the case of a young man, who, through habits of 
carefulness, may be said to have made his fortune by 
a pin. 

Some children form dilatory habits. They will do 
what they are told, but they never do it right-away. 
For example, Mary is a dilatory girl. If her mother 
says to her, " Mary, go up-stairs and bring me the 

14* 



162 "an inch of time/' and the dying queen. 

baby's blue frock from the closet." "Yes, ma," 
says Mary, "I'll go in a minute;" and then she will 
go on with her reading or play, and keep her mother 
waiting for a quarter of an hour. John is a dilatory 
boy. His father said to him one day, "John, I want 
you to take this letter to the post-office directly after 
dinner." "Yes, sir," said John. But, after dinner, 
he went to play for an hour or two. Then, it was 
too late for the mail ; and this was the cause of a 
very serious loss to his father. That boy will be 
one of those who is always too late. When going 
on a journey, he will reach the wharf two or three 
minutes after the boat has started. He will learn to 
put off doing things at the right time, when he is 
young, and the habit will remain with him when he 
grows up. He will learn to do this in little things, 
and then he will go on to do it in great things. And 
in just this way multitudes will lose their souls at 
last. When Elizabeth, the great and gifted, but am- 
bitious, queen of England, was dying, she cried out, 
"An inch of time ! Millions of money for an inch 
of time !" Poor woman ! she was lying on a splen- 
did bed; she had been used to have a new dress 
every day; she had ten thousand dresses in her 
wardrobe, and at her feet a kingdom on which the 
sun never sets: — but all was of no value then. She 
had lived for seventy years, but had put off prepa- 
ration for eternity to the last. That which should 
have occupied her whole lifetime, was crowded into 
a few moments; and, when it was too late, the 
wealth of her kingdom would have been given for 
"an inch of time !" 



A CHILD KNOWN BY HIS COMPANY. 163 

Other children form prompt habits. When they 
are told to do any thing, they go and do it at once. 
If they are reading, when called, they will lay the 
book down in a moment. If they are at play, they 
break off without any delay, and hasten to do what 
is required of them. And this habit is of great im- 
portance in order to success in life. General Wash- 
ington was never known to fail in meeting an en- 
gagement, or even to be late at an engagement, in 
all his life. This is a most valuable habit to form, 
and one which every person should acquire who de- 
sires to succeed in life. 

And then the company which he keeps goes far to 
make up those " doings" of a child by which he may 
be known. The choice of companions is a very im- 
portant thing. Few things have more to do with 
the formation of our character than the company 
we keep. You can generally tell what sort of a 
person any one is, by noticing what kind of company 
he chooses. There is a little animal called the cha- 
meleon, which is said to change its color according 
to the light it is seen in, or the ground it is seen on. 
But we all have something of this quality. We 
soon grow like the persons we associate with ; and 
this makes it important that we should be very 
careful who those persons are. There was a gentle- 
man, once, who was very particular about the com- 
pany that his children kept. One day he had for- 
bidden his daughter Susan, with her brother, to go 
into certain company which they were very anxious 
to unite with. "Dear father," said Susan, "you 
must think us very childish if you suppose we could 



164 THE DANGER OF HANDLING COALS. 

not go into this company without being injured 
by it." 

The father, in silence, took a dead coal, from the 
grate, and reached it to his daughter. 

"It will not burn you, my child, ,, said he; "take 
it." 

She did so, and, behold, her delicate white hand 
was soiled, and blackened ; and so, as it happened, 
was her white dress also. 

"We cannot be too careful in handling coals," 
said Susan, with a little feeling of vexation. 

"That is true," said her father; "for you see, my 
child, that coals, even when they do not burn, will 
surely blacken. And so it is with improper com- 
pany." 

These, then, are the things by which a child may 
be known. And thus we have the answer to our 
first question. 

Now, the other question is : — What may be known 
of a child, by his doings? This can be answered in 
much shorter time than the other. And, in answer- 
ing it, we may say that you can tell a child's fortune 
by his doings. There are some wicked persons who 
pretend to be fortune-tellers ; and to be able to find 
out, in various ways, all about what will happen to 
anybody, for years to come. And many people are 
foolish enough to believe them. These people mean 
by fortune, the things which they suppose will hap- 
pen to them, as if it were by chance. But there is 
no such thing as fortune in this sense. Our word 
"fortune" comes from the name of one of the idol- 
gods that used to be worshipped by the Romans. 



FORTUNE, A HEATHEN WORD. 165 

They called this god Fortuna. She was represented 
as a female, blindfolded, and having a horn of plenty 
in one hand, out of which she scattered blessings 
among the people, at hap-hazard, without any 
knowledge, or discrimination. Now, we all know, 
my dear children, that this is a heathen idea. There 
is no such person, or thing, as fortune, in this sense. 
And it is just as well to avoid the use of the word, 
or at least to avoid attaching any such idea to it. 
The blessings we receive are not given to us by 
blind chance. The Bible tells us that "every good 
gift, and every perfect gift, is from above, and cometh 
down from the Father of lights." Again, it tells us 
that it is God who gives us "life, and breath, and all 
things." But God does not shut his eyes, neither is 
he blindfolded, when he bestows blessings on his 
people. No ; he does it with his eyes open. He 
knows what he gives, and he knows to whom he 
gives it. And he gives the best things he has, to 
those who love him most. I do not mean by this 
that he gives the most money, or the largest propor- 
tion of the good things of this life, to those who love 
him. Oh, no ; for these are not, by any means, the 
best things God has to give. His grace, and his 
spirit, and the things which belong to salvation, — 
these are God's best gifts. These are his real good 
things. And these he has promised to give to those 
who love him. 

But you may ask, What has all this to do with tell- 
ing a child's fortune ? And how can this be told by 
his doings? Why, it has a good deal to do with it; 
and let me show you how. God has commanded us 



166 HOW TO TELL FORTUNES. 

to do certain things. If we do them, he has pro- 
mised to bless us and make us happy. It is only 
the blessing of God that will give us a good fortune. 
If we fail to obtain his blessing, we shall have a bad 
fortune. And if you want to find out whether any 
person is likely to receive God's blessing, you must 
inquire whether he is doing what God commands 
him to do. And how can we tell this ? Why, by 
looking at "his doings." God's commands to us 
refer to our "doings." That is, they refer to "the 
tempers we indulge, and the habits we form, and 
the company we keep." 

Now, show me a child who is cross, and fretful, 
and selfish in his temper; who is idle, and care- 
less, and dilatory in his habits ; and who keeps 
company with persons like himself, or worse : and 
I will tell you that child's fortune, just as easily 
as I could tell you how many twice five make, in 
addition. That child will grow up to be poor, and 
miserable, and good for nothing in this world ; and, 
in the world to come, he will be unhappy forever. 
But show me a child who is striving, by the help of 
God, to be kind, and patient, and generous in his 
temper; industrious, and careful, and prompt in his 
habits ; and who keeps company with those who love 
and fear God, and is striving to become like them, 
and I will tell you that child's fortune just as easily 
as in the other case. 

You can tell what the farmer's fortune will be, 
when you see him rising early, and working late, 
and ploughing, and sowing, and tilling his grounds 
with untiring care, and industry. You can tell what 



HOW FORTUNES ARE MADE. 1G7 

the merchant's fortune will be, when you see him 
always in his place, and doing every thing in his 
power to make his business prosper. Solomon says, 
" Seest thou a man diligent in his business ? he 
shall stand before kings." That means, he will be 
sure to succeed. 

Bear in mind, my dear children, that you are mak- 
ing your fortunes now, every day. You have read in 
story-books about persons " going off to seek their 
fortunes." You can do this just as well by staying at 
home, and a great deal better too. You are all busy 
now in making your fortunes. The tempers you are 
indulging, the habits you are forming, and the com- 
pany you are keeping, are all helping to make them. 
What kind of tempers, and habits, and company 
are they ? "What an important question this is ! 
How careful you should be to find out what is 
wrong in your tempers or habits, and pray to God 
to help you to correct it at once ! It is very easy 
to do it now. It w r ill be very hard by-and-by. Re- 
member the fable of the crocodile and the ichneu- 
mon. A crocodile of great size, and fierceness, in- 
fested the banks of the Nile, and spread terror, and 
desolation, through all the surrounding country. He 
devoured the shepherds and the sheep, the herds- 
men and the cattle, together. Everybody fled from 
before him. Various plans were devised, and many 
efforts made, for his destruction, but in vain. A 
public meeting of the inhabitants was held to con- 
sider what should be done, to rid the country of this 
plague. While they w r ere consulting together, the 
ichneumon stepped forth, and thus addressed them : 



168 THE CROCODILE AND THE ICHNEUMON. 

— (the ichneumon is a small animal, something like 
a lizard, and lives on the eggs of crocodiles) — "I 
perceive your distress, my friends, and, though I 
cannot assist you in your present difficulty, yet I can 
offer you some advice, that may be of use to you for 
the future. A little prudence, is worth all your 
courage; it may be glorious to overcome a great 
evil, but the wisest way is to prevent it. You de- 
spise the crocodile while he is small, and weak ; but, 
when he gains his full size, and strength, you fear 
him, and flee from him. You see, I, am a poor, little, 
feeble creature, yet I am much more terrible to the 
crocodile, and more useful to the country, than you 
are. I attack him in the egg ; and while you are con- 
triving, for months together, how to get rid of one 
crocodile, and all to no purpose ; I effectually destroy 
fifty of them, in a day." And then, attached to the 
fable was this 

"MORAL. 

"This fable, dear child, is intended to show 
The danger of suffering ill habits to grow ; 
For the fault of a week may be conquered, 'tis clear, 
Much easier than if it went on for a year." 

Now, let me entreat you to follow the example of 
the ichneumon. "When you find out a bad temper 
or habit, attack it in the egg. Don't wait till, like the 
crocodile, it grows so strong, and fierce that you can 
do nothing with it. But don't try to do this, in your 
own strength. If you wish to succeed, you must 
pray for Jesus to help you. Without him we can 
do nothing. But by his help we can do all things. 
And, if we have his grace given to us, then we shall 



god's help necessary. 169 

be able to have our ways ordered so as to please 
him; we shall "love the things which he com- 
mands, and desire those which he does promise ; 
and so, among the sundry and manifold changes of 
the world, our hearts will surely then be fixed where 
true joys are to be found." And the Lord grant 
that this may be the case with us all, for Jesus' sake ! 
Amen. 



15 



THE MILLENNIAL MENAGERIE. 

IsATAH XI. 6 : The wolf also shall dwell ivith the lamb, and 
the leopard shall lie dovm with the hid ; and the calf and 
the young lion and the fatling together ; and a little child 
shall lead them. 

I remember, several years ago, my dear children, 
when returning from England, in a packet-ship, 
there was a little boy among the steerage-passengers 
who became a great favorite with those on board. 
He was not more than three or four years old. And, 
as he had been so unfortunate as to lose the use of 
one eye, but had a good voice, and was very fond of 
singing, which he did very well, the cabin-passen- 
gers all took a great interest in him. Very often, 
after dinner, we would call him upon the quarter- 
deck and bribe him to sing for us, by offering him 
nuts and raisins. Among the pieces that he liked 
most to sing, and that we were the most fond of 
hearing, was one about "The good time coming." 
When a circle of listeners was gathered round him, 
and the tempting reward of his performances had 
been exhibited to him, he would clear his throat, 
and turn up the white of his blind eye, very funnily, 
and begin : — 

"There's a good time coming; 
There's a good time coming ; 
Boys, wait a little longer. 
170 



THE HAPPINESS OF THE MILLENNIUM. 171 

We may not live to see the day, 
But earth shall glitter in the ray 
Of the good time coming." 

I suppose this poor child did not understand the 
real meaning of the words he used to sing. He 
never thought, perhaps, that he was singing about 
a time of which God has spoken in the Bible, and 
the coming of which is just as certain, as it is that 
the sun will set to-night, and rise again to-morrow 
morning. This time is commonly called the mil- 
lennium. This name is not given to it in the Bible. 
Millennium means a thousand years. And, as the 
Bible tells us that this "good time coming ,, will last 
a thou sana years, that is the reason why this name 
has been given to it. 

The prophet Isaiah was speaking of this time when 
he wrote the words of our text. When it comes, Satan 
will not be permitted to go about the earth and tempt 
people as he does now ; but he will be driven out, and 
fastened up in the bottomless pit, and made to stay 
there all the time. There will be no sickness in the 
world then; no sorrow, and no sin. No earthquakes 
will rend the ground; no storms nor tempests will 
sweep over it. No scorching heat, nor biting frosts, 
will be experienced then. No wars will then be 
waged ; no blood will then be shed ; no violence nor 
quarrelling will then be heard. All the people in the 
earth will then be good and holy. There will be as 
much beauty and happiness, all over the world then, 
as there was in the garden of Eden before Adam 
sinned. Earth will then be like heaven. All the 
people of the world will then be under one govern- 



172 A MENAGERIE WORTH SEEING. 

ment. The capital of that government will be Je- 
rusalem, which will be rebuilt, in great glory. And 
Jesus will be the head of that government. He will 
not be on the earth, all the time, but he will occupy 
the throne of David at Jerusalem, and will often 
appear in great glory to his people there. 

What a happy time that will be ! When we think 
of it, we may well take up the language of the hymn, 
and say, — 

" Rejoice! rejoice! the promised time is coming; 
Rejoice ! rejoice ! the wilderness shall bloom : 

And Zion's children then shall sing, 

1 The deserts all are blossoming.' 
Rejoice! rejoice! the promised time is coming; 
Rejoice! rejoice! the wilderness shall bloom: 

The gospel-banner, wide unfurled, 

Shall wave in triumph o'er the world, 

And every creature, bond or free, 

Shall hail that glorious jubilee." 

Many wonderful sights will be witnessed when 
this time comes. One of these will be that which 
the prophet Isaiah describes in our text. You have 
often been to the menagerie, to see a collection of 
wild animals. But you have always seen them put 
in separate cages, with strong iron bars, to keep them 
from devouring one another; or from tearing to 
pieces the people who came near them. But here, 
the prophet describes to us a millennial menagerie. 
They will need no separate cages, nor iron bars then. 
For then " the wolf shall dwell with the lamb ; and 
the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the 
calf and the young lion and the fatling together; 
and a little child shall lead them." And in the 



TWO LESSONS- FROM A MENAGERIE. 173 

next verses, the prophet goes on to say, "And the 
cow and the bear shall feed ; their young ones shall 
lie down together ; and the lion shall eat straw like 
the ox. And the sucking child shall play on the 
hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his 
hand on the cockatrice's den. They shall not hurt, 
nor destroy in all my holy mountain : for the earth 
shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the 
waters cover the sea." 

Now, we may consider the prophet in our text as 
teaching us two important things. 

In the first place, he points out to us here, the change 
which will take place in the wild beasts, to fit them for the 
millennium. 

And, in the second place, he points out the change which 
must take place in us, to fit us for heaven. 

"The wolf shall dwell with the lamb; and the 
leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf 
and the young lion and the fatling together; and a 
little child shall lead them." This shows us the 
change that will take place in the wild beasts, to fit 
them for the millennium. From what is here said, 
we learn that they will lose their fierceness, and all 
their savage qualities. They will no longer fight, 
and tear, and devour each other. Now, we are ac- 
customed, from our childhood, to repeat, and sing 
the words of Dr. Watts's sweet, and simple hymn : — 

" Let dogs delight to bark and bite, 
For God has made them so ; 
Let bears and lions growl and fight, 
For 'tis their nature too." 

But this hymn will have to be altered, when the 

15* 



174 THE ANIMALS CHANGED. 

millennium comes. Then, the dogs will no longer 
delight to bark and bite. Then, it will not be the 
nature of the bears, and lions, to growl and fight. It 
would be a slander upon the animals, to sing this 
hymn about them then. They will not live upon 
one another then, but upon grass, and vegetables. 
Then, the prophet says, "the lion will eat straw 
like the ox." Now, some good people always smile, 
when they hear anybody say this. They point to 
the teeth of the lion, or the bear ; or to their sto- 
machs, and say, " Why, don't you see that these are 
not adapted to eat, or digest, any thing but animal 
food? It is impossible that these animals should 
ever live on grass, or vegetables." Well, then, you 
are ready to ask, " What do these people do with 
the words of our text, and similar passages in the 
Bible ?" I'll tell you w T hat they do with them. 
They say that these words are only figurative ; and 
that the wild beasts, here spoken of, mean wicked 
men ; and that the change in the habits of the beasts, 
refers to the change that will take place then, in the 
tempers, and dispositions of men. But this is not 
the meaning of these passages, my dear children. 
They mean just what they say. The prophets were 
not using figures, but stating facts, when they ut- 
tered these words. The wild beasts of the earth, as 
well as the men, and women, and children, living in 
it, will share in the blessedness of the millennium, 
when it comes ; and their share of that blessedness, 
will lie in just the change spoken of in the text. 
And I wish now to give you three good, and suffi- 
cient reasons for the view I am taking. The first 



NO DISCORD ; OR BLACK SPOTS IN THE MILLENNIUM. 175 

reason is, that the state of the world, then, will make this 
change in the animals necessary. The world itself will 
be different from what it is now. Its climate and 
seasons will be different : its vegetable productions 
will be different; " instead of the thorn shall come 
up the fir-tree ; instead of the brier, the myrtle-tree ; 
the wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad, 
and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the 
rose :" its inhabitants will be different; "the people 
shall be all righteous, and they shall know the Lord, 
from the least even unto the greatest of them." And, 
when every thing else is changed, is it likely that 
there will be no change in the animals? Surely not. 
To change every thing else and leave the animals 
unchanged, would spoil the beauty and harmony of 
the scene. 

You know that if several persons attempt to sing 
together, they must all sing the same tune, and 
all get the proper pitch, or it will create discord. 
Suppose there were ten persons in a room, and, 
while eight of them were singing "Yankee Doodle," 
two should strike up "Old Hundred:" what horrible 
discord it would create ! Or suppose a collier, who 
had been working in a coal-mine all the week, should 
come out on Saturday afternoon, and, washing his 
face, so as to go to church on Sunday, should leave 
his nose, or one of his cheeks, as black as coal : how 
strange it would seem! Now, my dear children, 
when God undertakes to make music, there is no 
discord in it. Every sound is in perfect harmony 
with all the rest. When God undertakes to make 
things clean, he leaves no black marks upon them. 



176 GOD IS ABLE TO CHANGE THE ANIMALS. 

God never does any thing by halves. All that he 
does is done well, and thoroughly. And when he 
is speaking of the millennium — this "good time 
coming" — in one place in the Bible, he says, "Be- 
hold, I will make all things new." And if "all 
things" are to be made new, then it is perfectly clear 
that the beasts of the earth must be included. For, 
if these are left with their old dispositions, and tem- 
pers, and habits of living, it cannot be said that u all 
things" are made new. The state of the world at 
that time, then, will make it necessary that there 
should be this change in the animals. 

Another reason for believing that this will be so, is that 
God is able to do it. Nobody will deny this. He can 
easily do whatever he wants to do. Nothing is im- 
possible with God. And not only is nothing impos- 
sible, but nothing is difficult, or hard, for him to do. 
God can make a world, as easily as he can make a 
grain of sand. God can change the teeth, and sto- 
machs, of wild beasts just as easily as he can change 
the hearts, and tempers, of wicked men. But every- 
body allows that wicked men will be changed, when 
the millennium comes. They allow that God's 
power is able to make this change. But should they 
not allow that the wild beasts will be changed also ? 
Is not the same power which makes one of these 
changes just as able to make the other also ? And 
has not God promised, just as plainly, and positively, 
to do one of these things, as he has to do the other ? 
This, then, is a good reason why we should expect 
to see it done. 

And, then, there is a third reason why this change 



THE FOOD OF THE ANIMALS IN EDEN. 77 

in the animals should take place, and that is, that 
it will only be restoring them to the condition in which 
they were created, in the beginning. God did not make 
the beasts of the earth wild, at the first. The ani- 
mals did not devour one another, or live on flesh, 
when they were in the garden of Eden. Grass was 
their food then ; and why may it not be so again ? 
God said expressly to Adam, (see Gen. i. 30,) " To 
every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, 
and to every thing that creepeth upon the earth, 
wherein there is life, I have given every green herb for 
meat. 1 ' God made the animals live on vegetables 
then, just as man did. And it was very probable 
that they had nothing else to eat, till after the de- 
luge. We know very well that God never gave men 
permission to eat flesh, till after Noah came out of 
the ark. And it is most likely that he did the same 
with the beasts. And since we know that the mil- 
lennium — the " good time coming" — is intended to 
put the world itself, and the people who live in it, 
back in the position which they occupied before 
Adam sinned, why should it not put the animals 
back into the same state also ? I think, my dear 
children, that these reasons are sufficient to show 
that the words of our text mean just what they say; 
that when lions, and bears, and wolves, are spoken 
of, it is not men, and women, who are intended, but 
real live lions, and bears, and wolves ; and that, when 
a change in their dispositions, and habits, is spoken 
of, it means a real change in these animals them- 
selves ; such a change as will be necessary to fit them 
for the state of things that will exist in the millen- 



178 A MILLENNIAL BOY AND HIS MENAGERIE. 

ilium. This is the first thing which the prophet 
teaches us, in the text. "What a pleasant thing it 
will be, when this comes to pass ! Then, there will 
be no insects to sting; no serpents to bite; and no 
wild beasts to devour. Young children, in the mil- 
lennium, will be able to make pets, and playthings, 
of little lions, and tigers, and bears, and wolves, just 
as they do now of rabbits, and squirrels, and guinea- 
pigs. And I suppose that, when Isaiah wrote the 
words of our text, he meant to give us a pictorial 
view of the way in w T hich a millennial boy would 
gather a menagerie of animals around him, for his 
amusement; and lead them through the woods ; or 
play with them on the lawn before his father's 
house, just as we have sometimes seen boys play- 
ing, in our times, with a lamb, or a kid, or a dog. 
A fine time, for play, the boys and girls will have, in 
those days ! 

But, there is another thing, which we may con- 
sider this text as teaching us ; and that is, the change 
which must take place in us, in order that we may be Jit 
for heaven. 

Now, I have said, my dear children, that the ani- 
mals spoken of in our text do not mean human 
beings, — men, women, and children; and that is 
very true. Our text, in its true meaning, refers to 
real animals, and nothing else. But, the Bible does 
sometimes represent different sorts of people, under 
the figure of different animals. For instance, you 
remember, in one of his parables, in which Jesus was 
speaking of the day of judgment, he compared the 
good people, on his right hand, to sheep ; and the 



THE WOLF CLASS. 179 

wicked, on his left, to goats. In another place, he 
compares false teachers, to ravening wolves. And in 
the twenty-second Psalm, the wicked men, who cru- 
cified Jesus, are spoken of as dogs, as strong bulls, 
as unicorns, and roaring lions. And so, although 
this is not what the prophet means, we may consider 
the different animals, here spoken of, as representing 
different kinds of children, and thus, we may look 
upon this passage as pointing out the change which 
they must experience, if they hope to enter heaven. 

Let us see, now, how many of these wild animals 
are spoken of in our text. There is the wolf, and the 
leopard, and the lion, and, in the verse following, 
the bear. These may be regarded as representing 
four classes of children, whose characters correspond 
to the qualities which mark these different animals ; 
and who must all be changed, in order to make them 
fit for heaven. 

Now, the first class of characters, represented here, is 
the wolf class. This is a large class. It takes in all, 
who may be described as, cross children. This is the 
quality which we most commonly associate with the 
thought of the wolf. He is cross, snappish, and 
quarrelsome. He is all the time growling, and show- 
ing his teeth. He seems to be continually on the 
watch, for a cause of quarrel with somebody; and if 
he cannot find a cause, he will make one. We see this 
quality exhibited, in the fable of the wolf, and the 
lamb, who met at the same stream of water, to get a 
drink. The wolf was at the upper part of the 
stream, and the lamb at the lower part. The wolf 
looked angrily at the lamb, and asked him, how he 



180 THE LEOPARD CLASS. 

dared to come and muddy the water, while he was 
drinking ? The poor lamb, very meekly, replied by 
observing that he was the lower down the stream of 
the two, and, therefore, if he made any disturbance 
in the water, it would flow down the stream, and not 
up it. Upon this, the wolf flew into a passion ; and 
charged the lamb with contradicting him; and pre- 
suming to know more than he did ; and then, he 
sprung upon the lamb, and tore him in pieces. This, 
was acting out the wolf's character completely. And 
this, is very much the spirit which cross children 
manifest. You can scarcely speak to them, or look 
at them, but they have something sharp, and unkind 
to say. All such children belong to the wolf class. 
And they must be changed, before they can be fit to 
enter heaven. Jesus is called "the Lamb of God." 
And if cross children, who are like wolves, hope to 
dwell with him, all their crossness must be over- 
come. They must become gentle, and kind, and 
lamb-like, as Jesus is. And then, when they are 
happy with him in heaven, it may well be said that 
the wolf is dwelling with the lamb. 

The second class of character, here described, is the leo- 
pard class. The quality which marks the leopard, or 
the tiger, (for they are nearly alike,) is cruelty. This 
is stamped upon his countenance. You can see it, 
glaring out, in the fierceness of his eye. Every look, 
that you take at him, suggests the idea of cruelty. 
And all the habits of the leopard show that this is 
really his character. There is nothing kind, or ge- 
nerous about him. The lion will only kill in self- 
defence, or to satisfy his hunger. But the leopard 



THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS IN CHILDREN. 181 

will kill, for the mere love of killing. Cruelty is a 
part of his nature, and he delights to indulge it. One 
lamb, or sheep, is as much as he can eat at a meal; 
and yet he will worry, and kill, a whole flock to gra- 
tify his cruelty, and indulge his fondness for shed- 
ding blood. 

This class of children, I am glad to say, is much 
smaller than the first that we spoke of; but yet a 
good many belong to it. You can tell a leopard, as 
soon as you see him, by his spots. And there are 
certain things, about the children of this class, which 
may be looked upon as the spots which prove that 
they belong to the leopard tribe. 

When you see children worrying, and distressing, 
poor helpless creatures, who are in their power; 
when you see them catching flies, and killing them, 
or pulling off their wings, and watching them hop 
about in their misery ; when you see them beating, 
or unkindly treating, some poor little kitten, or dog, 
that they are playing with ; when you see a set of 
boys pelting the frogs, beside the brook, or pond, or 
throwing stones at the old lame horse, as he limps 
over the commons, trying to pick up a little grass, 
or teasing the old blind beggar, as he gropes his tot- 
tering way from door to door, seeking relief in his 
poverty; or when you see the larger boys and girls, 
in a family, uniting in some trick to frighten a 
younger brother or sister, and then laughing heartily 
when the cries and shrieks of the little terrified one 
are heard, — oh, this is cruel indeed ! — then, my dear 
children, you may point to these things and say, 
" There, there are the leopard's spots." You may 

16 



182 THE LION CLASS— PRIDE. 

know in a moment to what class these children 
belong. 

But there is no cruelty in heaven ; and none with 
cruel dispositions can enter there. Heaven is a place 
where love and kindness prevail. God is love : and 
Jesus is love. Love is, as it were, the atmosphere 
which all breathe in heaven. And, wherever there 
is a child whose disposition is marked by unkind- 
ness and cruelty, he belongs to the leopard class : 
he must be changed if he hopes to go to heaven. 

The third kind of character here described is the lion 
class. " The calf, and the young lion, and the fatling 
together." The lion is always called the "king of 
beasts/' He has some very fine, and generous quali- 
ties. These, of course, will not require to be changed. 
It is not these that are referred to here. Only that 
which is wrong, will need to be altered ; and only 
this, therefore, in each of the animals can be in- 
tended. And the quality in the lion, that I suppose 
we are chiefly to look at, is his pride. It seems as if 
he knew that he was regarded as the head of all the 
animals. How stately is his walk ! How high he 
carries his head ! How he seems to look down on 
all the inhabitants of the forest, as though none of 
them were good enough to range over the same 
fields, or dwell in the same woods with him ! A look 
of proud disdain may be seen in every glance of his 
eye, and in every motion of his noble form. 

Now, this class of children is very large. How 
many here, are under the influence of pride, in differ- 
ent ways ! You may see pride in the toss of a child's 
head, in the glance of his eye, in the curl of his lip, 



THE BEAR CLASS — SULLENNESS. 183 

and in the haughtiness of manner which seems to 
say to those about him, especially if they happen to 
be poorer than himself, " Stand off; you are not good 
enough to keep company with me." My dear chil- 
dren, of all the feelings that people indulge, pride, 
is the most unmeaning, the most ridiculous, and 
among the most sinful. Some one has said that 
"pride was not made for man." This is very true. 
Nobody in the world, not even the richest, or wisest, 
or greatest, or best man that lives, has any thing to 
feel proud of, and no right to feel proud at all. 
There is no pride in heaven. There were some an- 
gels there, once, who began to feel proud. But God 
drove them out immediately, and would not let them 
stay there. And no people who indulge proud feel- 
ings will be allowed to enter heaven. Jesus says, 
"Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly." If we 
have proud hearts, they must be changed before we 
can hope to go to heaven. 

But there is a fourth kind of character represented in 
this menagerie, and that is the bear class. In the verse 
just after the text it says, " The cow, and the bear 
shall feed." There is no difficulty at all in telling 
the quality which distinguishes the bear. He is 
known, all over the world, for his sullenness. No- 
thing is more common than to say of a rude, dis- 
agreeable person, that he is "as surly as a bear." 
No matter how kindly you may treat a bear, or how 
many good things you may give him, it seems to 
make no impression upon him. He never does any 
thing to testify his gratitude. If you speak kindly 
to a dog, and throw him a crust of bread or a bone, 



184 WHAT THE BEAR CLASS MUST LEARN. 

he will wag his tail, and caper about, and try as 
plainly as he can to say, " Thank you, thank you ; 
I'm very much obliged to you." But you would 
have to give a great many crusts of bread to a bear, 
before you would get a wag of his tail, or any thing 
expressive of his gratitude. He remains the same 
sullen, surly, sulky beast all the time. 

Now, the children in this class, I am thankful to 
say, are not so numerous as in some of the others. 
But there are a good many who act the bear's part, 
very well. They look all the time sour, and dis- 
pleased. They seldom have any thing to say, and, 
when they do make out to speak, it is generally 
something so rough, and rude, that they had much 
better have left it unsaid. They hardly ever look 
pleasant, or act kindly. And if they are spoken to, 
they generally growl out a "yes," or "no," or the 
shortest, and surliest possible reply. But, when the 
bear comes to feed with the cow, in the millennium, 
he will be a very different kind of animal, from what 
he is now. And if the children of the bear class, 
wish to know what they must become like, in order 
to make them fit for heaven, they can easily find 
out by reading, and meditating on, such passages as 
these : — "As ye would that men should do to you, 
even so do to them." "Be pitiful; be courteous." 
"Put on, therefore, as the elect of God, bowels of 
mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, 
long-suffering ; forbearing one another, and forgiv- 
ing one another, even as Christ forgave you." "Let 
all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, be put away 
from you, with all malice. And be ye kind one to 



THE MULE CLASS. 185 

another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even 
as God, for Christ's sake, hath forgiven you." "When 
these surly children learn to exercise the sweet spirit 
described in these passages, there will be a greater 
change wrought in them, than that which the bear 
will exhibit, when he learns to feed in the meadow 
with the cow. 

These four, are all the animals spoken of, in this 
millennial menagerie. But I wish to add two others 
to them, in order to make the collection more 
complete. 

We may speak of a fifth description of character, which 
it would be well to consider, and that is the mule class. 
We all know what the character of the mule is. 
The thing which has always distinguished him is 
his obstinacy, or stubbornness. When he takes a no- 
tion, he's fixed in it. You can't whip him out of it ; 
you can't coax him out of it. The more you want 
him to do any thing he doesn't like, the more he 
won't. The rule of his conduct seems to be just 
this : — 

4 'If I will, I will; — you may depend on't; 
But if I won't, I won't ; — and there's an end on't." 

This is the mule all over. And how many chil- 
dren are just like this ! Asking, reasoning, coax- 
ing, threatening, are all lost on thern. They are so 
hard to bend, that they put you in mind of live crow- 
bars. They are so obstinate, and mule-like, that you 
almost feel tempted to measure their ears, and see if 
there is not some sign of relationship to that long- 
eared animal. My dear children, who belong to 

16* 



186 THE FOX CLASS. 

this class, yon must be changed, and get rid of this 
obstinacy, if you hope to enter heaven. And if you 
wish to know just the lesson you must learn, just 
the feature in those fit for heaven which you should 
try most to imitate, you will find it in James iii. 17. 
It is this: — "Easy to be entreated." Think of this, 
when the next obstinate fit comes on, and pray God 
to make you " easy to be entreated.' ! 

The sixth, and last, description of character, that I would 
refer to, is included in the fox class. The thing which 
characterizes the fox is his cunning. He is a low, 
mean, cringing animal, full of tricks and falsehood. 
He is not ashamed to rob or steal if he can only 
avoid being caught. And the fox class of children, 
I am sorry to say, is not small. They all have a sly 
way of doing wrong things. They seem to have no 
sense of the difference between right and wrong, in 
certain things. But they have a very keen sense of 
the difference between being found out, and not being 
found out. They are always ready to slip into the 
pantry and take a little sugar or preserves, or some 
of the cakes put away there, if they think they can 
only do it unobserved, as the fox creeps into the 
hen-roost, when the farmer is away or the dog is 
asleep. 

But the fox will have to quit his mean, cunning 
tricks, and take to some honest way of getting a 
living, when the millennium comes. And so all the 
children of this class must be changed, and give up 
their trickery and cunning, if they would be made 
fit for heaven. There will be no liars in heaven. 
None who use deceit, and guile, can enter there. 



HOW WE MAY HELP ON THE MILLENNIUM. 187 

Honesty, sincerity, plain-dealing, and straightfor- 
wardness, must be the character of those w r ho desire 
to share the joys of that blessed place. You must 
either give up the thought of going to heaven, or 
else you must give up all deceit and cunning. 

JSTow, my dear children, I want you to ask your- 
selves, individually, " To which of these classes do I 
belong ? Is it the wolf, or the leopard, or the lion, 
or the bear, or the mule, or the fox, that represents 
niy character ? Am I cross ? or cruel ? or proud ? or 
surly? or stubborn? or sly?" And, when you find 
out what your fault is, pray God to give you grace 
to overcome it. If you want to stop the leak in a 
vessel, you must first find out where it is. If you 
wish to extinguish a fire, you must ascertain what is 
burning. And so it is here. You must know just 
w T hat your fault is, and then try to get it changed. 

"We have been talking about the millennium. The 
question is, What can we do to help it on ? We can 
do two things. We can try to get our own hearts changed. 
This will help it on. It will not come till all the 
people that God has given to Jesus, to be his chil- 
dren, are brought to know, and love, and serve him. 
While our hearts are unchanged, we are hinderances 
in the way of its coming. When our hearts are 
changed, that very change will help on the mil- 
lennium. 

And then we can help to send the gospel to others who 
are without it. This, too, will hasten its coming. 
Jesus said, " The gospel must be preached, for a wit- 
ness, to all nations, and then it will come." We do 
not have to wait till all nations are converted, but 



188 PRAYER FOR THE MILLENNIUM. 

only till they have had opportunity of hearing the 
gospel, and then the millennium will come. So that 
when we send the Bible to the heathen, or send the 
missionary to preach it to them, we are doing the 
very things that God would have us do in order to 
hasten the time when " the wolf shall dwell with 
the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the 
kid ; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling 
together; and a little child shall lead them." Then, 
let us seek to get our own evil natures changed, and 
let us do all we can to send the gospel to those who 
are without it. And, as we do this, let our constant 
prayer be, " Thy kingdom come !" or, in the beauti- 
ful lines of Bishop Heber's missionary hymn, — 

"Waft, waft, ye winds, his story, 

And you, ye waters, roll, 
Till, like a sea of glory, 

It spreads from pole to pole ; 
Till o'er our ransomed nature 

The Lamb for sinners slain— 
Redeemer, King, Creator — 

In bliss returns to reign." 



THE BEST MEECHANDISE. 

Prov. in. 14 : The merchandise of it is better than the mer- 
chandise of silver. 

A merchant is one who buys and sells. Mer- 
chandise denotes the things which a merchant buys 
and sells. If you walk along Market Street, you 
will find merchants there, of different kinds. Some 
of them are dry-goods merchants, some of them are 
hardware merchants, some of them are china mer- 
chants; and you will see their merchandise, in the 
boxes or bales, lying along the street. 

But the merchandise spoken of in our text is very 
different from this. Here Solomon says, "the mer- 
chandise of it" Now, the question is, What does 
this it refer to ? The merchandise of what ? If you 
look back to the verse before our text, you will find 
that Solomon is saying there, " Happy is the man 
that findeth wisdom;" and then he goes on to say, in 
our text, " for the merchandise of it is better than 
the merchandise of silver." 

The "it," then, refers to wisdom; and wisdom, 
you know, my dear children, means true religion, — the 
love and fear of God. There is a text in the Pro- 
verbs which says, " The fear of the Lord is the be- 
ginning of wisdom." This shows us what wisdom 
means. 

189 



190 THE FIRST REASON : — CAN BEGIN EARLIER. 

Now, we learn from this text, then, that to deal in 
wisdom — to be concerned with religion — is better 
than to deal in any thing else. " The merchandise 
of wisdom is better than the merchandise of 
silver.' ' 

If you had a mine of gold or of silver on your 
farm, and you were occupied in getting out the gold, 
or silver, and selling it, then this gold and silver 
would be your merchandise ; these would be the 
things with which you were trading. And if you 
had such mines upon your farm you would not be 
willing to work as a bricklayer, or shoemaker, be- 
cause you would have your merchandise in gold and 
silver, and you would think it better to be occupied 
with these things, than with any thing else. But 
here we learn, from Solomon, that the merchandise 
of wisdom is better than even that of silver or 
gold. 

And now the question comes up, Why is the mer- 
chandise of wisdom better than that of silver ? 

I wish to point out several reasons why it is so ; — 
why this is the best merchandise that any person can 
engage in. 

Theirs* reason is : — Because it is a business you can 
begin sooner than you can any other. 

If you wish to be a lawyer, or a physician, or a 
minister, you must finish your education, and go 
through a long course of study, to fit you for the im- 
portant duties you will have to perform. You must 
wait till you are twenty-one years of age, before you 
can begin to enter these professions. So, if you 
wish to be a carpenter, or a printer, or a dry-goods 



SAMUEL AND TIMOTHY BEGAN EARLY. 191 

merchant, you must serve an apprenticeship to these 
different sorts of business, and wait till you get to 
be of age, before you can set up for yourselves. 

But it is very different with the merchandise of 
which we are now speaking. You can begin this 
to-day. The youngest among you can begin it with- 
out waiting another hour. Why, children as young 
as four and five years old have begun to be wis- 
dom's merchants, and have found the merchandise 
of it better than the merchandise of silver! 

We read in the Bible of "little Samuel," who was 
called to be wisdom's merchant when he was quite 
young. I suppose he was not more than seven or 
eight years of age, when God first called him, and 
when he began to trade in wisdom. Then we read 
of Timothy, who, "from a child, had known the 
Scriptures, which were able to make him wise unto 
salvation." 

Did you ever think how much God has done to 
show his interest in children, and his earnest desire 
to have them engaged in the merchandise of wis- 
dom ? Why, if he had done nothing more than to 
write in his blessed word that one sweet promise 
which we find in Prov. viii. 17, — " Those that seek 
me early shall find me," — it ought to encourage 
every child who reads the Bible to begin at once 
to serve God. 

But, ah ! how much more than this God has done ! 
When he made a covenant with Abraham, and pro- 
mised to be a God to him, and do every thing for 
him that was necessary for his salvation, he made 
Abraham bring all his children with him, into fel- 



192 JESUS INTERESTED IN CHILDREN. 

lowship with God. And he commanded the Jews, 
as soon as their children were eight days old, to 
bring them, and consecrate them to him, and cause 
them, as it were, with their unconscious, tiny hands, 
to take hold of that covenant, and begin to trade in 
wisdom's merchandise. And though baptism, the 
sign or seal of God's covenant, as used by us, is very 
different from that appointed for the Jews, yet the 
church of Jesus Christ is still open for children ; 
and, in their very earliest age, they can be made to 
share in the blessings of God's covenant. 

And, when Jesus was on earth, you know what an 
interest he manifested in children. Oh, how thank- 
ful every child, and young person should be, for what 
Jesus did to show his interest in them ! Ah ! my 
dear children, the sweet and gracious words of Jesus 
ought to engage a warm place for him in your 
hearts. Jesus was fond of children ; and he showed 
this when he rebuked his disciples, for trying to 
send them away, and said, " Suffer the little chil- 
dren to come unto me, and forbid them not ; for of 
such is the kingdom of heaven." And then "he 
took them up in his arms, and put his hands upon 
them, and blessed them." 

What blessed words these are, to come from the 
lips of him who created the mighty universe, and 
who sits now, at the right hand of the throne of 
God! What a surprising thing it is, to know, that 
Jesus thinks about children, and loves them ! — that 
he has made room for them in his church on earth, 
and room for them in his kingdom in heaven ! 

There is another passage in the New Testament 



HOW PETER WAS TO SHOW HIS LOVE TO JESUS. 193 

which shows the great interest Jesus feels in chil- 
dren, and how anxious he is that they should be 
taught how to trade in "the merchandise of wis- 
dom." One day, after his resurrection, when he 
was talking with Peter, who had denied him, he 
asked Peter if he loved him. Peter said to him, 
very earnestly, "Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I 
love thee." And then Jesus told him what he 
wanted him to do in order to show his love to him. 
And what was it? It was this : — "Feed my lambs." 
Children, who are trying to love and serve Jesus, are 
his lambs. The word to feed, in the Bible, means 
to teach, or instruct. And, when Jesus spoke these 
words to Peter, he meant them for all his ministers, 
to the end of the world. It was just as if Jesus had 
said to every minister of the gospel, " If you want 
to show your love to me, be kind to the children in 
your church. Take an interest in them. Do all you 
can to lead them to think of me, and to love and 
serve me." It was thinking about these words of 
Jesus which first led me to have church once a 
month for children, and preach especially for them. 
And, if ministers would only think more about these 
words, I feel sure they would feel more interest in 
their Sunday-schools, and show their love to Jesus 
by trying to do more to feed his lambs. 

And all these things show you, my dear children, 
that God loves to have young people serve him ; and 
that, although you cannot engage for yourselves in 
other business until you are of age, yet you are all, 
even the very youngest of you, old enough to engage 

in the merchandise of wisdom. And this is one 

17 



194 THE SECOND REASON I — EASIER. 

reason why it is better than any other merchandise, 
because you can engage in it so much sooner. 

But another reason why this merchandise is better 
than any other is, that it is easier to trade in. I mean 
by this that it requires less money, and less labor to 
carry it on. 

When a person is going to set up in business, the 
first thing that he wants is money. If you want to 
open a store, for instance, you must have money to 
furnish it, with the merchandise you are going to 
trade in. If you want to set up as a carpenter, or 
as a machinist, or any other trade, you must have 
money, to furnish yourself with a shop, to provide 
yourself with tools, and with all the things necessary 
for you to carry on that trade. You can do nothing 
at all until you get these. 

But, my dear children, no money is needed to 
begin to trade in the merchandise of which we are 
now speaking. Every one of us has all the mate- 
rials, ready on hand, that are needed to begin this 
business. These materials are our sins, our evil 
hearts, our sinful dispositions. "We are to "set 
up" with these; to begin with these. "We are to 
carry these to Jesus and tell him of them, and pray 
of him the grace that will enable us to get rid of 
them. 

This is the way in which we must begin the mer- 
chandise of wisdom. It requires no money here. 
When God invites people to come and buy the 
blessings of his grace, he says they can buy them 
"without money and without price." 

But then, besides money, a great deal of labor is 



MUCH LABOR NECESSARY TO SUCCESS IN BUSINESS. 195 

needed in order to be successful in any otlier pur- 
suit. No farmer will succeed in the cultivation of 
his ground ; no carpenter or tradesman will succeed 
in the carrying on of his design, unless he bestows 
upon it a great amount of labor and toil. 

If you get up early in the morning, the first 
sounds you hear are the sounds of men hastening to 
their work. You find some rising as early as four 
o'clock, and not returning home from their labors 
until nine, or ten o'clock, at night. And we find 
them doing this all the time, — day after day, week 
after week, month after month, and year after year ; 
and all in order that they may succeed in their 
business. Now, it is very hard to be doing this all 
the time. But God does not require such hard ser- 
vice, on the part of those who try to love and fear 
him. 

I would not have you suppose, my dear children, 
that you can get to heaven without great efforts. It 
is not sitting down, and wishing yourselves in hea- 
ven, that will bring you there. We are told to 
"work out our own salvation/' Jesus said, "Strive 
to enter in at the strait gate." The life of the 
Christian is compared to a race, a struggle, a con- 
flict. And all this implies, that vigorous efforts must 
be put forth, if we would gain the prize of eternal 
life. What I mean to say is, that it is easier to serve 
God, than it is to serve Satan ; that less real labor 
is required to secure the true riches — " the durable 
riches" — of the kingdom of heaven, than is put forth 
by many, to obtain the riches of this world. 

Jesus said, when upon earth, "Take my yoke 



106 THE THIRD REASON : BETTER PARTNERS. 

upon you, and learn of me ; for my yoke is easy, 
and my burden is light." It is because Jesus makes 
his people love his yoke, that it feels so easy, and 
because of the help he gives them, in bearing it, that 
his burden seems so light. 

Oh, dear children, how many people there are 
who labor more — spend more time and pains — to 
secure to themselves a house of brick, or wood, or 
stone, that will soon crumble to decay, and perish, 
than they are willing to put forth in order to obtain 
a " house not made with hands, eternal in the hea- 
vens" ! How many spend more time to secure 
"gold that perisheth" than is needed to obtain that 
gold which endureth forever and forever ! 

Thus, my dear children, you see that the mer- 
chandise of wisdom is better than the merchandise 
of silver, because it is easier to carry it on. 

But there is a third reason why this merchandise 
is better than any other ; and that is, you can have 
better partners here, than in other pursuits. 

In carrying on important branches of business, 
men generally have partners, to engage with them. 
Sometimes they will have one, sometimes more. 
Sometimes one of the persons will bring, to the con- 
cern, a knowledge of the business, and another will 
bring the money, necessary to carry it on ; and then 
these join together, to conduct the business in which 
they are about to engage. 

But entering into partnerships is often found to 
be a very dangerous thing, because it is very diffi- 
cult to get good partners. 

Sometimes men find themselves connected with 



HARD TO GET GOOD PARTNERS. 197 

dishonest partners, who cheat them of their lawful, 
proper gains, and ruin the business. Sometimes the}' 
find themselves engaged with ignorant partners, who 
do not know how to carry on the business ; and 
thus, from their want of knowledge, disaster, loss, 
and ruin are brought upon them. 

Sometimes, too, they find themselves joined with 
idle, careless partners, who are unwilling to work, or 
apply themselves, as the interests of the business re- 
quire; and, in this way, disgrace and disappoint- 
ment will soon be experienced. It is often a very 
difficult thing to get good partners, when they are 
needed. 

If a young lawyer, just starting in his profession, 
could have secured Henry Clay, or Daniel Webster, 
to be his partner, how fortunate he would have 
thought himself! But, when we begin the business 
of engaging in wisdom's merchandise, we have the 
very best partners that can be. God the Father, 
and God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost, become 
the partners, and helpers of all who really and ear- 
nestly engage in this business. 

We have the benefit of all God's wisdom, the help 

of all his power, the use of all his riches, in carrying 

on this business. Those who become interested in 

it are called in the Scriptures the "heirs of God;" 

and the " joint heirs of Jesus Christ." St. Paul says 

of them, " They are laborers together with God." 

This is the same as saying that God, and his people, 

are partners. And in another place, where he is 

urging them to "work out their own salvation," the 

reason which he gives for it, is that it is " God who 

17* 



198 THE PARTNERS IN THIS MERCHANDISE. 

ivorketh in them." And in one place in the Old Tes- 
tament, where God is encouraging his people to per- 
severe in trying to get to heaven, he says, " Fear 
not, for J will help thee." "What a blessed thing it 
is to have such a helper ! The hardest things be- 
come easy, when we have a good helper. When you 
have been carrying a heavy burden, and some strong 
person has come along, and taken hold of it w^ith 
you, how light it seemed ! When you have had a 
hard lesson to learn, and some one who knew all 
about it, has just taken a seat, by your side, and ex- 
plained it all to you, how easy it was to learn it ! 
Just so, God helps his people to bear the burdens, 
and learn the lessons, necessary in carrying on the 
merchandise of wisdom. 

_ And then the angels in heaven, and all God's 
people on earth, are the partners, and helpers of 
those who engage in this business. 

Sometimes, when people engage in a large busi- 
ness, they will have branches of their business es- 
tablished in different cities, and countries. They 
will have a great variety of agents, to attend to all 
its different concerns. And all these persons will be 
working together, for one object. They will all, in 
one sense, be partners in the same business. And, 
just so, Jesus our Saviour is engaged in doing a 
great work. He is carrying on the business of 
saving souls from death. His church is the esta- 
blishment through which he carries on this work. 
The principal office of his church, is in heaven, 
where he resides. . From there, he sends out his 
orders, concerning the souls that are to be saved. 



THE FOURTH REASON: — MORE PROFIT. 199 

And wherever a congregation of true Christians 
meet together on earth, that is a branch-office, es- 
tablished to carry on the merchandise of wisdom. 
The angels of heaven are his head-officers, — his 
chief agents. They are all ministering servants 
sent forth by him to help, in the great work he 
is carrying on. And all his people on earth, even 
down to young children who love and serve him, 
become lower officers, or laborers in this same great, 
and glorious business. And the strange thing about 
it is, that they all become partners in the concern. 
Every one has a share, a personal interest, in it. 
And, when the business is finished, Jesus will gather 
all who have been engaged in it together, and divide 
among them the profits that each one has gained 
by trading. Oh, the merchandise of wisdom is 
better than any other, because we have better 
partners. 

Then, my dear children, there is a fourth reason 
why this is the best merchandise to engage in : that 
is, because it yields more profit than any other. 

"What do men engage in business for ? It is for 
profit, for gain. "When you look out upon our 
streets at noonday, all crowded with men, running 
to and fro, on various errands, to accomplish various 
ends, the great aim and object they have in view is 
profit, or gain, of some kind ; they all have an eye to 
this. The bricklayer, and the blacksmith, the car- 
penter, the shopkeeper, the merchant, and the sales- 
man, are all expecting gain, and profit, as the result 
of all their labor. And it is right to look for it, and 
right that they should have it. 



200 THE GAINS OF WISDOM. 

Sometimes we meet with men who have secured 
to themselves great gain in this way. There was 
Stephen Girard, in this city, some years ago, who 
had amassed a fortune of fifteen millions of dollars. 
He made his money by merchandise. The richest 
men in the world now, belong to a family in Europe 
called u the Rothschilds." They were once poor, 
but they are now richer than kings ; and they made 
all their money by merchandise, of one kind, or 
another. 

But, my dear children, should we try to make 
money by religion ? Should we engage in the mer- 
chandise of wisdom for the purpose of getting gain 
of this kind from it ? No ; not all. 

And yet, see what our text says : — " The merchan- 
dise of it is better than the merchandise of silver." 
Does the Bible teach us that it is profitable to serve 
God ? Yes ; it certainly does. It says that in keep- 
ing the commandments of the Lord there is "great 
reward." It tells us that " godliness is profitable 
unto all things; having promise of the life that 
now is, and of that which is to come." It yields 
a greater profit, and a better gain, than gold or 
silver. 

And do you ask me what this gain is ? I answer, 
it will secure the pardon of sin ; it will secure to 
you peace, and happiness here; and a treasure in the 
heavens that will last forever, hereafter. 

We read in the Bible of the rich man and Laza- 
rus. We are not told how this man made his money. 
He had probably been a merchant, and made it in 
the buying and selling of merchandise. He had 



RICHES IN A DREAM. 201 

retired from business, and was living at his ease, 
upon the great gains he had secured for himself. 
But, while attending to these things, he had forgot- 
ten the concerns of his soul; he had laid up no 
riches for the world to come. 

There was a poor beggar who was laid at his gate, 
and asked only for the crumbs which fell from the 
rich man's table. 

But, oh, what a wonderful change took place in 
the condition of these two men when they died ! 
The rich man, on earth, became the poor man, after 
death; and the poor beggar, on earth, became the 
rich man in heaven. The reason was, my dear chil- 
dren, that, while he had engaged in no earthly busi- 
ness, he had not forgotten the merchandise of wis- 
dom ; and he found, to his everlasting happiness, that 
" the merchandise of it is better than the merchan- 
dise of silver." 

Did you ever have a dream, at night, when you 
thought yourself the owner of a large house, and 
possessed of great riches ? It seemed, for the time, 
as if it were all real. But, in a little while, you 
awoke, and lo, it was gone ! It was only a dream ! 
Many a beggar has had such a dream. He thought, 
and felt, for a moment, as if he was rich. He awoke, 
and found himself in rags and poverty. My dear 
children, just such will the riches, and gains, of this 
world seem, to those who die, and wake up in eter- 
nity, without having the true riches. Life will be 
like a dream. They dreamed that they were rich, 
but wake up to find that they are poor forever. But 
the gains of wisdom's merchandise are real, lasting 



202 FIFTH REASON : — MORE ROOM FOR IT. 

riches. The merchandise of wisdom is better than 
any other, because there is more profit in it. 

There is one other reason why this is the best of 
all merchandise ; and that is, that there is more room 
for engaging in it than in any other. 

Can you think of any one kind of business, in 
which all that are here present could engage at once ? 
Could you all become ministers, or all lawyers, or 
all physicians, or all dry-goods merchants, or all 
storekeepers, or all carpenters? Certainly not. 
Some of you would not be fit for one of these pro- 
fessions, or trades, or employments, and some would 
not be fit for others. 

And, even if you were all fit, for any one of them, 
there would not be room for you all to enter upon 
it at once. You would not be wanted. You could 
not find employment. It would be impossible for 
you to succeed. 

But how different it is with the business of serv- 
ing God ! Here, there is room enough for you all. 
It is a merchandise which all can understand; a pur- 
suit for which all are fit. Just look, for a moment, 
at some of the things w T hich those must have, who 
engage in this business, and then you will see who 
are fit for it. It is those who have sinful natures 
who can engage in it. And is there one of us to 
whom this does not apply? The Bible tells us that 
we " all have sinned, and come short of the glory of 
God." It is those who are burdened with sorrow, 
and sin, who are fit for it ; for Jesus says, " Come 
unto me, all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and 
I will give you rest." It is those who are in danger 



ALL FITTED FOR THIS BUSINESS. 20o 

of losing their souls, who are fit for engaging in this 
business. And we are all in this danger, till we learn 
to love and serve God. Jesus said, "He that be- 
lieveth not is condemned already.'' Now, you know, 
that a condemned man is one who has been found 
guilty of some crime, and who has been sentenced 
to be executed, and is only waiting for the appointed 
time to come, when he will be led out, and put to 
death. And this is our condition, until we truly 
repent, and become Christians, by exercising faith in 
Jesus. We have been found guilty of breaking 
God's holy law. We are condemned, already, to 
everlasting punishment. And if death, the great 
executioner, should come to us, while w^e are in this 
state, we are lost forever. This shows how fit we 
all are to engage in the business of which we are 
speaking. But the help of God's Holy Spirit is 
necessary, to fit us for entering upon this business : 
and can we all get this help ? Read Luke xi. 11-13 
for an answer. Here Jesus tell us that God is more 
ready to give the Holy Spirit to them that ask it, 
than parents are to give bread to their children. 

The merchandise of wisdom is a business, then, 
in which w r e are all fitted to engage. And we are 
not only all fitted, but all invited, to engage in it. 
" Wisdom crieth at the gates, at the entry of the 
city, at the coming in at the doors : Unto you, O 
men, I call ; and my voice is to the sons of men. 
Now, therefore, hearken unto me, O ye children; for 
blessed are they that keep my ways." Yes, we all 
have sins enough to fit us to begin the merchandise 
of wisdom ; and God has grace enough to enable us 



204 ROOM FOR ALL. 

all to go on with it, when it is begun. There is room 
for us all here. There is room, in the church, for us 
to enter. There is room, in the world, for us to trade 
in wisdom's treasures; and there is room in heaven, 
my dear children, for us all to enjoy the everlasting 
gains of this heavenly merchandise. 

"We have considered, five good reasons, why the 
merchandise of wisdom is better than any other. It 
is a business we can begin sooner; it is easier to carry 
it on; we can have better partners than in other pur- 
suits ; there is more profit in it, and more room for 
it. These are all sound, substantial, and satisfactory 
reasons. Then, let me entreat you all to begin this 
business, without delay. Resolve, by God's help, 
that you will set up at once, to be wisdom's mer- 
chants. It will not interfere with any other lawful, 
and honest business, or pursuit, that you may have 
to engage in. On the contrary, it will help you, in 
whatever else you do. Jesus said, "Seek ye first 
the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all 
other things shall be added unto you." And may 
God incline you all, my dear children, to begin now, 
to trade in this merchandise, and make you skilful 
and successful traders, for Jesus' sake ! Amen. 



THE LESSONS JESUS TEACHES. 

Matt. xi. 29 : Learn of me. 

This is a short text. There are only three words 
in it. But it is a very important text. Do you 
know, my dear children, who spoke these words? 
Jesus spoke them. Now, what do we call the per- 
son from whom we learn any thing ? "We call him 
our teacher. Then, in what character does Jesus 
here come before us ? As a Teacher. It is a great 
thing to have a good teacher. If the Governor 
of the State, or the President of the United States, 
should have a class in Sunday-school, the boys who 
were in his class would feel themselves honored to 
have such a teacher. It is said that Victoria, the 
Queen of England, when at home, in her beautiful 
palace at Windsor, has a Sunday-school, in which 
she attends, and teaches a class of children. If this 
is so, it reflects great honor upon her. And, I sup- 
pose, the children of her class feel it to be a great 
privilege to have the queen of that great and mighty 
nation for their teacher. But, my dear children, 
what is any earthly governor, or president, or king, 
or queen, compared with Jesus ? Jesus is the Maker 
and Ruler of the world. He is the Maker and Ruler 
of all worlds. He is the greatest and best Teacher 
that ever was. His position makes him great. He 

18 205 



206 THE FIRST LESSON — TO KNOW GOD. 

sits at the right hand of the throne of God. His 
power makes him great. "All power in heaven and 
on earth is given unto him.' , He can do whatever 
he pleases. His wisdom makes him great. He knows 
all about everybody who is living now, and every- 
body who ever has lived. He knows all about every 
thing that ever has taken place, or ever will take 
place. Oh, he is a great Teacher ! What a happy 
and glorious thing it must be to be his scholars ! 
Yet this is just what he wishes us to be. In our 
text we have his invitation to us to enter his school, 
and join his class, and have him for our teacher: — 
" Learn of me." This is what Jesus says to us all. 
Now, when we go to school to any person, we wish 
to know what it is that he will teach us, or what 
lessons we shall have to learn. And if we have 
Jesus for our teacher, we may very well ask what it 
is that he will teach us. He will teach us four 
things, which it is of the utmost importance for us 
to learn ; but which we never shall learn at all un- 
less he become our teacher. The difference be- 
tween earthly teachers is, not that some teach things 
which others do not, but it is that some teach them 
better than others. But the difference between 
Jesus and other teachers is, not only that he teaches 
better than others, but that he teaches things which 
nobody else can teach at all : and which we must 
forever remain ignorant of, unless we learn them 
from him. 

Now, let us see what these things are. 

And, in the first place, Jesus will teach us to know 
God. 



THE LESSON-BOOK WHICH JESUS GIVES. 207 

The Bible is the lesson-book which Jesus has pre- 
pared for his scholars. It is his first lesson-book; 
his book for beginners. It contains the simplest les- 
sons we can learn, on this subject, — the very A, B, C 
of the knowledge of God. And it contains not 
only the alphabet of this knowledge, but many 
higher lessons, also, on the same subject. All that 
we can learn about God, in this world, is contained 
in the Bible. And if it were not for the Bible, and 
what it has taught us, we should know nothing at 
all about God, for certain. Almost every thing else, 
men can study, and find out by themselves. But 
however long, or hard, they might study by them- 
selves, they would never find out any thing about 
God. This is the meaning of that question which is 
asked in the Bible : — " Canst thou by searching find 
out God ? Canst thou find out the Almighty unto 
perfection ? It is high as heaven : what canst thou 
do ? It is deeper than hell : what canst thou 
know?" 

There was a heathen king, once, who had no 
Bible, but who wanted to know something about 
God. It happened so, that a very celebrated philo- 
sopher, and the wisest man then living, was in this 
king's dominions. So the king sent for the philoso- 
pher, and told him he wanted an answer to this 
question: — What is God? The philosopher said that 
this was a very difficult and important question, and 
he wanted three days' time, to consider about it, 
before he attempted to give an answer to it. "When 
the three days were up, he came to the king, and 
asked for five days more. "When the five were up, 



208 THE PICTURES IN A DARK ROOM. 

he came again and asked for ten ; and when the ten 
were passed, he came again, and told the king that 
he could not answer his question ; for the longer he 
thought upon the subject, the less able he was to say- 
any thing about it. And, if we were left to ourselves, 
we should know no more about God than this phi- 
losopher did. And, if Jesus had not come to teach 
us, we never should have known any more. Sup- 
pose that you were in a dark room which had a 
great many pictures hung round on the wall, and 
you were asked to find out what those pictures were 
about: could you do it? No. You might strain 
your eyes, ever so much, in trying to see through 
the gloom. You might grope your way in the dark, 
and go feeling round among the pictures. But your 
fingers would be unable to detect the forms, and 
figures, painted there. You never could tell what 
those pictures were, so long as you were left in the 
dark. And what is it you would want to enable 
you to know the character of those pictures ? Light; 
yes, light is what you would need. Only let a window 
be opened in that dark room, and the blessed beams 
of the sun come pouring in around you, and then you 
could see the pictures, and tell, in a moment, what 
they were. And this is just our position, without 
the teachings of the Bible, in reference to God. 
The world we live in is like a dark room. The glo- 
rious works of God, that surround us, are like pic- 
tures of him hung round the walls of this room. 
But they are hanging in the dark ; and we strive in 
vain to tell what it is which these pictures represent 
to us of God. But Jesus has opened a window, and 



JESUS LETS IN LIGHT. 209 

let in the light. He is himself that light. St. John 
said of him, " He is the true Light, which lighteth 
every man that cometh into the world." Jesus said 
of himself, " I am the light of the world." He came 
into the world, on purpose, to teach us about God. 
And this is what Jesus meant when he said, "No 
man knoweth the Father save the Son, and he to 
whom the Son doth reveal him." "No man hath 
seen God at any time ; the only begotten Son, who 
is in the bosom of the Father, he hath revealed 
him." We know nothing at all of God but what 
Jesus has taught us. The Bible is full of his teach- 
ings. It is the lesson-book he puts into our hands. 
It is the only book he uses. Earthly teachers have 
a great many lesson-books, for their scholars to learn 
from, and they change them very often. Jesus has 
but one book, and he never changes it. It is the 
same book that apostles, and prophets, and holy 
men of old read, and meditated upon, and prayed 
over. It is the same, only made larger, that David 
loved so much ; in which he used to read by day and 
meditate by night ; which he made " the man of his 
counsel and his guide;" and which he said was 
"sweeter to his taste than honey, and the honey- 
comb." The child of seven or eight years of age, 
who has learned to read the Bible, knows more 
about God, and can tell about his character better, 
than all the philosophers, and wise men, who ever 
lived without the Bible. Here, Jesus teaches us that 
"God is a Spirit;" that "God is love." Here, we 
learn that "the Lord our God is holy." Here, his 
character is described as " the Lord God, merciful 

18* 



210 THE BOOK THAT NEVER GROWS OLD. 

and gracious ; keeping mercy for thousands ; forgiv- 
ing iniquity, and transgression, and sin; and who 
will by no means clear the guilty/ ' Jesus can give 
us fresh lessons, from this wonderful book, every 
day. No matter how long we study it, we never 
can get to the end of its teachings. It is very differ- 
ent, in this respect, from all other books. If we 
study any other book, and go through it, two or 
three times, we can master it, and find out all that 
is in it. Then we get tired of it, and find that it 
does us no good to read it any more. We want 
another book. But it is not so with the Bible. The 
oldest Christian, who has been studying the Bible 
for forty, or fifty, or sixty years, and who has read 
it all over scores of times, has not learned half that 
is in it. Jesus teaches him fresh lessons from it 
continually. He is all the time seeing something 
new, and interesting in it; or else the old things in it 
come up to his mind, with fresh interest, and plea- 
sure, just as if they were quite new. He never gets 
tired of it. He never wants a new Bible. He feels 
that it is the book which Jesus has given him, to 
teach him about God, and he finds so much to learn 
in it, that if he should live to be as old as Methu- 
selah, yet, while he was growing old himself, and 
every thing else was growing old around, the Bible 
would never grow old; and he would never get tired 
of studying it. This is the first lesson that Jesus 
teaches. He teaches us to know God. 

But there is a second lesson to speak of: Jesus teaches 
us to love God. 

There are different ways of teaching a thing. 



DIFFERENT WAYS OF TEACHING. 211 

Deaf people, who cannot hear, are taught by signs. 
Blind people, who cannot see, are taught by feeling. 
But even people who are neither blind, nor deaf, 
and who can both see, and hear, are taught in dif- 
ferent ways. Sometimes people are taught things 
by studying text-books, which tell all about what 
they want to learn. Sometimes they are taught by 
lectures, and sometimes by conversation. But there 
is only one way in which Jesus teaches us to love 
God. And what is this ? Is it by showing us the 
"power of God ? Does he teach us 

"To sing the almighty power of God, 
Which made the mountains rise, 
Which spread the flowing seas abroad, 
And built the lofty skies," 

in order that we may be led to love him ? No, my 
dear children ; the mere possession of power will 
never excite love. 

Is it by showing us the wisdom of God? Does 
he point us to all the marvellous things he has 
made ;— the birds with their sweet songs and beau- 
tifully-colored feathers ; — the insects with their 
curious contrivances ; — the trees with their graceful 
forms; — and the fragrant flowers with their hues 
of varying loveliness ? No ; this is not the way. 
If we find out that a person is very wise, we may 
admire him for his wisdom, but we never should 
love him for it. 

Well, is it by showing us the riches of God ? Does 
he point to all the mines of gold and silver, all the 
treasures of gems and jewels, that are in the world, 
and tell us that they belong to God ? Does he show 



212 HOW JESUS TEACHES US TO LOVE GOD. 

us that " all the beasts of the forest are his, and so 
are the cattle upon a thousand hills;" and ask us to 
love God because he is so rich ? No ; this is not the 
way. Nobody was ever loved because he was rich. 
A great many people love money very much indeed. 
And people will often serve one another ; they will 
live with one another, and even sometimes marry 
one another, because they have money; but nobody 
ever loved another because he had money. 

It is not in any of these ways that Jesus teaches 
us to love God. Then how is it ? In what way does 
he do it ? Now, mark what I say. Jesus teaches us 
to love God, by showing us that God loves us. The surest 
way in the world, to get other persons to love us, is 
to show that we love them. This is the meaning of 
that old saying, "Love, if you would be loved 
again." Dr. Doddridge, a celebrated minister in 
England, had a sweet, lovely daughter, who was a 
great favorite with all the persons who visited at her 
father's house. One day, a gentleman, who was 
there, said to her, "Mary, my dear child, tell me 
what it is that makes everybody love you so." 
"Indeed, sir," said Mary, "I don't know, unless it 
is because Hove everybody. 19 

But that was just the secret of it. 

A little girl once made an experiment of the 
power of kindness. There was a girl in the school 
to which she went, who was considered the very 
worst of all the scholars. Her temper was ex- 
tremely violent, and disagreeable. She never tried 
to control, or subdue it. The consequence was, that 
she was disliked, and shunned, by all the school. 



THE POWER OF KINDNESS. 213 

Nobody kept company with her, or spoke to her, 
unless when it was absolutely necessary. This mor- 
tified, and vexed her, and she was as unhappy, and 
miserable as she well could be. One of the scholars, 
who was a real good girl, felt great pity for her poor, 
unfortunate school-mate, and resolved to try the 
power of kindness, in effecting a reformation. She 
resolved to take advantage of every opportunity of 
speaking kindly to her. She often carried her some 
flowers, or fruit, or a piece of cake. She tried in 
various ways to do her some favor. At first, these 
efforts were rudely rejected. Then, they were re- 
ceived in sullen silence. At length they were cheer- 
fully accepted, and thankfully acknowledged. A 
gradual softening, and improvement took place in 
the conduct, and character of this bad girl; and 
eventually, she became one of the best girls in the 
school. 

Almost everybody has heard of the noble and ex- 
cellent Mrs. Fry, of England, and of her visits to the 
prisoners at Newgate. This was a prison in which 
persons condemned to death, and prisoners of the 
very worst, and vilest character, were confined. 

Nobody took any interest in these poor creatures ; 
and they were treated with great harshness and 
cruelty. The consequence of this was, that they 
became so violent, and desperate, that everybody was 
afraid of them, and there was the greatest difficulty 
in managing them. The keepers of the prison were 
afraid to go in, even with the food of the prisoners, 
unless they had a guard of soldiers along with them, 
with loaded muskets. But Mrs. Fry resolved to go 



214 MRS. FRY AMONG THE PRISONERS. 

in among these desperate creatures, and try to do 
them good. Her friends were alarmed when they 
heard of her intention. They told her she would 
certainly be insulted, or injured, if not killed; and 
tried to persuade her not to go. But she was re- 
solved to go, and said she had no fear. Then they 
wanted her, at least, to have a guard of soldiers with 
her ; but she refused. With nothing in her hand but 
the New Testament, she ventured in among that 
hardened, lawless crowd. They were men and wo- 
men more fierce than the hungry lions in the den 
into which Daniel was thrown. 

It did seem like a very dangerous experiment. 
But she spoke to them in tones of tenderness, and 
affection. It was what they had not been accus- 
tomed to hear. It acted like a charm upon their 
hardened hearts. She opened her book, and read to 
them. She closed the book, and spoke to them 
freely of the love of Jesus. They listened with 
profound attention. Sobs, and groans were the 
only sounds heard, while she was speaking, and tears 
were seen coursing down the cheeks of those who 
had long been unused to weep. After that, she 
often repeated her visits, which resulted in a great 
reformation among those prisoners, many of whom 
were reclaimed from their evil ways, and made use- 
ful members of society. And what was the charm 
about this noble woman, and the secret of the great 
power she exercised over those abandoned prison- 
ers ? The charm about her was the spirit of love. 
The power she exercised was the power of love. 
She convinced those poor creatures that she really 



HOW JESUS TEACHES US TO LOVE GOD. 215 

loved them, and wanted to do them good. This 
made them love her, and then she could do any 
thing that she wanted with them. 

Now, these instances show us, my dear children, 
how it is that people, even very wicked people, may 
be made to love others, although they are very dif- 
ferent from themselves. And it is in this way that 
Jesus teaches us to love God. He proves that God 
loves us. How does he prove it ? Turn to the six- 
teenth verse of the third chapter of St. John's Gos- 
pel, and there you wall find the proof. It is in these 
wonderful words: — "God so loved the world that 
he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever be- 
lieveth on him should not perish, but have everlast- 
ing life." Jesus came down from heaven to prove 
that God loves us. And when he took our nature 
upon him, and was born a feeble infant, and was laid 
in the manger ; when he lived a life of poverty and 
suffering; when he passed through the dreadful 
agony endured in the garden of Gethsemane; when 
he was taken by wicked men and mocked, and 
scourged, and crowned with thorns, and nailed to 
the shameful tree ; when he suffered, and groaned, 
and died, and was laid in the grave, — he was all the 
time proving to us how much God loves us. And 
this is the reason why preaching the gospel to 
people, and telling them about Jesus, leads them 
to love God, when nothing else will do it. Jesus 
teaches us to love God. This is his second lesson. 

But there is a third lesson we are to speak of; and that 
is, that Jesus teaches us to serve God. 

JSTow, people make a great many mistakes about 



216 THE THIRD LESSON — HOW TO SERVE GOD. 

the way in which they can serve God. Jesus said 
that the time would come when men would per- 
secute and kill his people, and think they were 
doing God service. And this has often been done. 
The Church of Rome used to have a place called 
" The Inquisition/' which was a horrible kind of 
prison, to which the priests would send people who 
would not believe just whatever they chose to 
teach. In that prison they would put people in 
chains, and in dungeons; they would beat them, 
and burn them, and torture them in a great va- 
riety of cruel ways, and think that this was serving 
God. 

Some people think that serving God means to be 
honest, and industrious, and mind your own busi- 
ness. Some think it means to be kind to the poor. 
And some think that if they only read the Bible 
every day, and go to church every Sunday, they are 
certainly serving God. But people may do all these 
things, and yet never serve God at all. 

Now, in order to serve God aright, there are two 
things especially that we need; and these are, a 
knowledge of what it is he wishes us to do ; — and the 
power to enable us to do it. The Collect for the first 
Sunday after Epiphany, contains a beautiful prayer, 
that God would "grant that we may both perceive 
and know what things we ought to do, and also give 
us grace and power faithfully to fulfil the same." 
And Jesus gives us both these things when he 
teaches us to serve God. And if you ask what is 
the knowledge Jesus gives us about serving God, 
I answer, he shows us in the gospel, that we must 



THE FOURTH LESSON — TO ENJOY GOD. 217 

repent of our sins, and believe in him as our Sa- 
viour; that is, we must become true Christians. 
Nobody can begin to serve God aright until their 
hearts are changed. Whatever we may do, until 
this takes place, we cannot please God. But can 
we change our own hearts ? Xo ; we can no more 
do this than we can fly. Then, where is the power 
to come from that will change our evil hearts, and 
make us Christians ? It can only come from Jesus. 
His grace can do it. Without him we can do nothing. 
But with his help we can do all things. And thus 
it is, my dear children, that the knowledge and power 
to serve God come from Jesus. If we want to be 
the servants of God, then we must learn of Jesus. 
Earthly teachers can often give their scholars know- 
ledge, without being able to give them power. They 
can show them what to do, but they cannot help 
them to do it. But Jesus can do both these things. 
He can give to all who learn of him both the know- 
ledge, and the power that they need. What a blessed 
thing it is to have such a teacher ! How anxious 
we should all be to learn of Jesus ! He can teach us 
to serve God. 

And then there is one lesson more which Jesus can teach 
us. He can teach us to enjoy God. 

My dear children, do you know where all the 
water which supplies the springs, and fountains, and 
rills, and rivers of the world, comes from? It comes 
from the ocean. The sun makes it rise from the 
surface of the ocean in a sort of steam, or vapor. 
The vapor floats away in the sky and forms clouds, 
and, when the clouds are full, they empty them- 

19 



218 GOD THE OCEAN OF HAPPINESS. 

selves in rain, and the rain supplies all the springs 
and fountains. 

The ocean, then^ is the grand reservoir from 
which all the water in the world is obtained. There 
is more water in the ocean than in all the rest of 
the world put together; and there is no water in 
the world but what comes from the ocean. And 
what the ocean is to the world, in regard to the sup- 
ply of water, God is to the world, in regard to its 
supply of happiness. God is the great ocean of 
happiness, from which all the fountains, or sources 
of happiness, are supplied. All the real happiness 
which any of God's creatures experience comes from 
him. And there is more happiness in God than in 
all the rest of the world, or of the universe, put 
together. 

IsTow, seeing this is true, you may well say, "What 
a wonder it is that all people do not come to God, in 
order to enjoy him and be happy !" It i s a wonder. 
But the reason of it is, that people do not know, or 
believe, that there is so much happiness in God. 
They need some one to show them this. And no 
one can teach us this but Jesus. We have a strik- 
ing illustration of what I am now speaking of, in 
the history of Hagar in the wilderness. You can 
read the account of it in the twenty-first chapter of 
Genesis. Hagar was wandering in the wilderness, 
with her son Ishmael. The water she had carried 
with her was all gone. They were parched with 
thirst, and her child was likely to die. She was in 
great distress. She laid her child down under a 
bush, and turned away from him and wept. While 



THE ANGEL SHOWING HAGAR THE WELL. 219 

she was weeping, the angel of the Lord came and 
showed her a well of water. Then she was glad, 
and drank from the well, and gave her son as much 
water as he wanted. You see, my dear children, it 
does not say that the angel made a well of water. 
He did not strike the rock, as Moses did afterwards, 
and make the water gush out. He only showed her 
the well. It was there before, and probably not far 
off; but she did not see it. She needed some one 
to show her the well. And just so it is with us. 
We need happiness, but know not where to find it. 
God is a wellspring of never-failing happiness. 
And " he is not far from every one of us." Still, we 
need some one to act the part of this good angel, 
and show us where the well is. "We need some one 
to teach us how to find our enjoyment and happi- 
ness in God. And this is what Jesus is able, and 
willing, to do for us. This is one thing that he 
means when he says, "Learn of me." And, if we 
do learn of him, he will make us really happy. 
He said, on one occasion, " Whoso drinketh of the 
water that I shall give him, shall never thirst : but 
the water that I shall give him shall be in him a 
well of water, springing up into everlasting life/' 
Those whom Jesus teaches to enjoy God are the hap- 
piest persons alive. They have more happiness in 
this life than any other persons; while nobody can 
describe the happiness prepared for them in the life 
to come. Surely, my dear children, these are the 
most valuable lessons we can ever learn. Nobody 
in the world can teach them to us but Jesus. Then, 
let us come and learn of him. If we want to know 



220 WHAT ST. PAUL SAID ABOUT THIS. 

God, let us learn of Jesus. If we want to love God, 
let us learn of Jesus. If we want to serve God, let 
us learn of Jesus. And if we want to enjoy God, 
let us learn of Jesus. 

Jesus is the best of all teachers, and the know- 
ledge which he gives is the best of all knowledge. 
The apostle Paul was a very learned man. He had 
been taught by one of the most famous teachers in 
the world, at that day. But when Paul became a 
Christian, and began to learn of Jesus, he thought 
the knowledge which he gives so excellent, that all 
the other knowledge he had gained was good for 
nothing in comparison with it. And Paul was 
right. And the knowledge of Christ Jesus our 
Lord is just as excellent, and valuable, to us, as it 
was to him. Then, let us all begin at once to learn 
of Jesus, and he will make us wise unto salvation. 
Remember, my dear children, that this is the mes- 
sage of Jesus to you. He says to each one of you, 
"Learn of me." 



THE END. 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proces 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Oct. 2005 

PreservationTechnologia 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPPP r ■ SERVATIOI 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724) 779-21 11 



